The Nameless
by EfrainMan
Summary: Ch. 9 is up! The clan vs. the Un-Named. Part 1. Please R&R.
1. Opening

The Nameless  
Ch.1 "Opening"  
EfrainMan  
rosavillalobos@mindspring.com  
  
I dinnae own Gargoyles . . . but if any of you Disney guys wanna give it to me,  
that's cool. Any original characters belong to my dark, twisted imagination, so  
if you wanna use 'em, you gotta ask the voice in head that tells me to kill. . .  
  
This funky little story takes place after Season 3, except for "Angels in the  
Night" and "Genesis Undone" ('cause that ep. BLEW!). And pretend it had better  
writing, too. ;-p  
  
* * *  
  
Elisa woke with a yawn and stretch that would impress a cat. She sighed  
and tried to sit up, but an obstruction on her chest prevented it.  
"C'mon, Cagney, I need to get up," she sighed again. She then gently  
shoved the curled up cat off of her chest and onto the bed. I remained curled up  
and barely twitched it's tail.  
"Spoiled cat." She got out of bed and stretched again. Then she froze.  
Out of the corner of her eye she saw a person-shaped shadow on her living room  
floor. It seemed to be wearing a very long cape or shawl. The shadow was long.  
'Not yet sunset,' she thought. Slowly, she lowered her arms and began to  
turn towards her living room. The shadow suddenly became shorter.  
'Ducked,' she thought. She began to wonder if it could see her. She  
glanced at the drawer where she kept her gun and began to move towards it. The  
shadow darted across the room and was gone. Elisa ran to the drawer, unlocked  
the box, took out the gun, loaded it and ran to the windowed alcove. She stepped  
out onto the balcony and looked around in every direction. She saw nothing save  
for a few birds. She looked around for any clues. She saw only one and her head  
began to spin.  
On the ledge of her stone balcony were claw marks.  
  
* * *  
  
For the fiftieth time that afternoon, she looked around for anything  
suspicious. When she was satisfied nothing was there, she stepped out of the  
elevator. She walked quickly down the hall in anticipation of speaking with her  
friends. She certainly had a couple of things to discuss tonight. But the sound  
of very wild laughter coming from one of the adjoining rooms stopped her in her  
tracks.  
'Fox is laughing like a hyena,' she thought. She then gave pause to the  
quirkiness of her mind. Curious, and knowing she still had a few minutes to wait  
until sunset, she went to the source of the laughter. She entered a tapestried  
room with a small table set up in the middle of it. Fox was sitting with her  
head buried in her arms, muffling her laughter. Owen was standing nearby  
cradling Alex, who was dozing. David was next to Fox, trying to remain cool  
despite his obvious annoyance. Elisa could practically hear his teeth grind. And  
seated next to him was a man with a very wide grin on his face. A little "cop"  
clicked on in Elisa for a split second before she returned to "normal".  
'Caucasian, 5'10" to 6', 180-ish, medium build, short brown hair, no  
distinguishing marks,' she thought.  
"Are you quite finished, dear?" David asked.  
"In a sec," she replied between giggles.  
"Huh. Owen, make sure to slip something slow and painful into Clark's  
drink tonight."  
"Of course, sir," he replied. "We have another guest." He pointed to  
Elisa.  
"Ah! Detective, how are you this evening."  
"Alright, I guess," she shrugged.  
"Good. And, ah, Owen . . ."  
"I will put Alex to bed now, sir," Owen said. "He had a long day."  
"Alright," David said, and he and Fox kissed him goodnight. Elisa told  
him goodnight as he and Owen left the room.  
"By the way," Elisa said, "if I find this gentleman's body tomorrow  
morning, I'll make sure to get a nice, cold cell for ya." She smiled wickedly,  
and David chuckled as he got up to introduce him.  
"This is Clark Straczynski, an old high school friend. . ." Elisa  
walked over to shake his hand and Clark stood to greet her, "and, Clark, this is  
Elisa Maza, one of New York's finest."  
"A pleasure," Elisa said.  
"Likewise," Clark replied. He then cocked his head and gave her a look.  
"You look a lot like my daughter. That is if she wasn't half Asian and half your  
age."  
"I still think that ex-wife of yours was just a complex fabrication of  
your twisted imagination," David said, "I mean, who'd marry you?"  
"What do I have to do, beat you with her?" They all chuckled, and that  
reminded Elisa.  
"So what was so funny earlier? If it was at Xanatos' expense, I must  
know."  
"I'm afraid it would take hours to explain," David said.  
"Hoursssss, yesssss," Clark said in a low, raspy voice. Fox began to  
laugh again, and David covered his blush with his hand.  
"I take it he isn't here just to take cheap shots at you." Elisa said to  
David.  
"No, actually," David said, somewhat peeved, "he owns a biotech firm on  
the West Coast. It's not huge, but their labs recently pioneered new techniques  
in nanotechnology that put my guys to shame."  
"So," Fox said, "David's now vacillating between buying him outright or  
simply going into business with him."  
"I didn't say that," David said.  
"Of course," Clark said, "the only reason he 'vacillates', as you so  
charmingly put it, is because we know each other. . . and I keep his dark little  
secret concerning a lampshade, a hobbyhorse and large quantities of alcohol."  
"Oh, no," David said as Fox giggled, "that never happened, and my  
lawyers and PR guys'll tell you the same thing." All but Elisa laughed, who just  
rolled her eyes.  
'Rich people,' she scoffed. She looked at her watch and realized she  
just missed sunset.  
"Well, if you'll excuse me," Elisa said with a smile.  
"Are you under investigation, David?" Clark asked.  
"Not at the moment, I hope," he smiled at Elisa, and she smiled back  
spuriously. "We have mutual acquaintances residing in the castle."  
"Oh," Clark said, "you mean the gargoyles?"  
  
* * *  
  
Elisa steeled herself before walking in to talk to the clan. She  
realized they probably weren't going to like this. As she walked in she saw that  
the whole clan was there.  
"Hey, guys," she said, cheerily. Several "hey's" and "hi, Elisa's" came  
back, as well as a "hello, lass" and dog's bark. Goliath walked up to her.  
"How are you this evening?" he asked her.  
"So, so," she replied. "Guys, there are a couple of things I need to  
discuss with you."  
"Sure, lass," Hudson said.  
"Yeah," Lexington said.  
"What's up?" Broadway said.  
"Is anything wrong?" Angela asked.  
"I'm not sure, yet," Elisa replied, then paused.  
"Well?" Brooklyn asked.  
"No need to rush her," Goliath said.  
"Mm. It's alright," Elisa said, "I just met an old friend of Xanatos  
and, well, he's figured out that you guys live here. He wants to meet you."  
"What?"  
"Are you serious?"  
"Figured out? How? Who is he?"  
"It's a bit of a story," Elisa said, "I didn't get everything myself.  
His name is Clark Straczynski."  
"Well, why didn't you just deny it?" Brooklyn asked somewhat angrily.  
"He had a photo of you guys chumming it up with Xanatos." She replied a  
bit curtly, then took out a photo from her jacket. The photo was dated two weeks  
prior, in the evening. The shot was of Goliath and Angela with David, Fox, Owen,  
and Alex. It was halfway between their horizon and zenith. Goliath growled  
softly.  
"I must speak with Xanatos about security," he said.  
"I don't think we should meet him," Lex said.  
"What does he want?" Angela asked.  
"He said," Elisa replied, "that he has a friend you should meet. The   
'friend' has information concerning your people. Ancient history stuff."  
"How did he know we were here?" Brooklyn asked, "And how did he take a  
photo like this?"  
"Yeah, the photographer would have to have been flying overhead," Lex  
said, "They would've seen or heard something flying."  
"He says he'll explain everything once he meets you."  
"What kind of person is he?" Broadway asked. "What does your cop  
instinct tell you?" Elisa chuckled.  
"No alarms blaring. He seems like a nice guy, and Xanatos said he used  
to always be on the up and up in high school." Elisa sighed. "It's your  
decision, of course." Goliath growled again.  
"I would like to meet someone who believes they know something about our  
people," Goliath said that last part a bit cynically. "I will speak with him  
first, alone. Lexington, do you have a way so everyone can hear my conversation  
with him?"  
"I think so. I can use our radios and. . . I guess some speakers. It'll  
take a few minutes."  
"Very well. I will go out when he has finished."  
"Okay, but don't take too long." As Elisa began to walk away, she  
remembered, "Oh! Afterwards, there's something else I need to speak with you  
about."  
"Alright. Hopefully we will not be long."  
  
* * *  
  
It caught their scent. There were a few on this island. Not nearly as  
many as on the other island, though. But most importantly to it, it found the  
scent of THEM. They were HERE. Now, all that ran through its mind was finding  
them and killing them. It jumped off the top of the Empire State onto another  
building . . . two blocks away and thirty stories down.  
  
* * *  
  
Despite her nervousness, Elisa managed to stay in the conversation.  
"So what happened with her?" David asked.  
"Oh, nothing much," Clark replied, "just caught her in bed with two  
other men."  
"Two!" Fox exclaimed.  
"Yeah, and remember I said I was recording memos when I walked in? I  
also recorded her tirade after I caught her. And her admissions of guilt, which  
she said just to spite me."  
"Wow," David said.  
"Yeah. We didn't have a prenup, so we went to court. With the tape and  
my little girl's testimony, the judge gave her absolutely nothing."  
"Oh, jeez," Elisa said, "Why did the girl testify?"  
"Well. . . Mayumi was accusing me of basically everything she was doing.  
Sleeping around, not being home enough, giving low priority to the family, and  
all that. The judge, one of the wisest I've ever seen, decided to ask Cynthia  
what was really going on. I was home more than mommy was, I attended all of her  
school activities, and she actually said on the stand that she wondered if mommy  
loved her anymore because she screamed at her a lot."  
"Poor thing," Fox said.  
"I know. It was hard for her at first, and she didn't want us to  
divorce. But I explained everything to her, without being too graphic of course,  
and she understood that mommy broke her promise with me and lied to me for three  
years. I also got custody, thank God. I wouldn't trust her with that cr-" He was  
interrupted by Goliath's entrance into the courtyard. "Just one, huh?" He didn't  
seem fazed.  
"The others can hear you," Goliath said. "Who are you?" Goliath moved  
closer until he was a few feet away. He seemed unintimidated,  
"My name's Clark, as I'm sure Elisa told you," he nodded, "A pleasure to  
meet you."  
"We will see. I am called Goliath." He then took out the photo. "Explain  
this."  
"Ah. Direct. I like you already," he replied. Goliath growled softly.  
"About ten years ago I came across a book called 'Grimorum Arcanorum' in the  
house of another one of my friends. Remember Mitch, David?"  
"Oh, yeah, his dad liked to spend his income on antiques."  
"That's him. My dad was visiting, and I thumbed through the book while  
they were chatting. It was mostly in Latin, except the end, which was in  
something else. But that was translated. It spoke of gargoyles turned to stone  
until Castle Wyvern rose above the clouds. I kept tabs for any news items  
concerning the book or the castle. Lo and behold, David not only acquires the  
book, but also buys Castle Wyvern a year later. Then I hear through the  
grapevine he was gonna stick the thing on top of his really tall skyscraper. I  
kept following up in my spare time, and found that not long after the castle was  
finished, gargoyle sightings in New York began to appear in the tabloids. It was  
like that for two years. Then there was the incident at the police station and  
that church. Although unmarked, the chopper that picked them up was clearly one  
of yours. Recent gargoyle incidents can also be traced back to you. . . if one  
knows what to look for. The photo merely proved my suspicions."  
"Hmmm. . . how was this taken?" Goliath asked.  
"Ah. That's someone else's story." Clark said. He took out a cell phone  
and dialed. "Hey. Yeah, it's time for your 'grandiose' entrance. Alright. Five  
minutes?! You were supposed to be only a building or two away. Bored?! You're  
impossible." He hung up. "Sometimes I think I care more about HER quest than SHE  
does." He sighed and put his phone away. Goliath now had a bit of an idea what  
kind of person he was going to meet. In a few minutes, the sound of wings caught  
their attention. They turned and saw a female gargoyle walking towards them. She  
had already caped her wings. Two things about her immediately caught Goliath's  
attention. Although she was light green, she had black stripes on the parts of  
her he could see. And she was a foot taller than him.  
"S'up, peeps," she said. Goliath was surprised by her language. "I'm  
Myria. Myria Leerka Clan-Brirra."  
  
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E-mails are more than welcome. . . they're BEGGED for! Jeez, am I 14m3 or what? 


	2. Encounters

The Nameless  
Ch.2 "Encounters"  
EfrainMan  
rosavillalobos@mindspring.com  
  
I dinnae own Gargoyles . . . but if any of you Disney guys wanna give it to me,  
that's cool. Any original characters belong to my dark, twisted imagination, so  
if you wanna use 'em, you gotta ask the voice in head that tells me to kill. . .  
  
* * *  
  
Demona Stretched out her wings and yawned. After staring at documents  
for hours, she needed some "wide & open". She was exhausted and knew she would  
not be able to sleep later like that. She bounded off of her balcony and began  
to glide. There was nowhere in particular she was going to, but she would try to  
steer clear of the more heavily populated areas. Just a quick little glide.  
  
* * *  
  
It caught a scent and looked up. It saw one of them. It knew that if it  
saw one it had to kill it. Its search for THEM had to wait for now. And though  
it would never know why until the day it died, it had to kill again. It waited  
until its target flew low enough, bounded forward a couple of buildings then  
jumped straight up.  
  
* * *  
  
"Whoa," Elisa said quietly.  
"Wow," David said, not so quietly. Fox gave him an elbow to the ribs.  
"Heh," Myria said, "those are the best compliments I've ever received."  
She walked to Goliath and looked at him. It had been a long time since Goliath  
had to look up at someone. He admitted to himself that he was a little nervous,  
but just a little. She smiled and offered her hand. Then Goliath noticed that  
her wings were very long. They went down to just above her ankles and across her  
chest completely. The left wing wasn't hooked with the right wing at the middle,  
rather it hooked on a small extrusion on her right shoulder. He would inquire  
about her differences later. But for now, he smiled and took her forearm. Her  
clothed forearm. He looked down and saw her hand and forearm were indeed gloved,  
a gray glove to be precise. The rest of her arm was garbed in a crimson material  
as well.  
"What're you staring at?" Myria asked.  
"Oh! Ahh," Goliath said somewhat fidgety, "you're wearing clothing."  
"What, I should just walk around butt-naked?"  
"No, that's not-" Goliath reddened and released her arm.  
"Myria, control yourself," Clark said.  
"Sorry, man." She then turned to Goliath, "I get wacha mean. This is all  
protective gear. Kevlar and shit. It's dangerous out there, bro!"  
"I, uh, see. Well, uh. . ." Goliath hesitated.  
"I think," David said, saving Goliath, "further introductions are in  
order. I'm David Xanatos."  
"Ah. Pleasure to finally meet you." They shook hands.  
"I take it Clark's been sharing anecdotes about me."  
"A few stories."  
"Well, whatever he said, I didn't do it, I wasn't there and you can't  
prove a thing."  
"Right,"she said and rolled her eyes. Fox sighed.  
"I'm Fox Xanatos," she then said.  
"Ah," they shook hands, "my condolences." Elisa chuckled, then turned to  
Myria.  
"I'm Elisa Maza, Detective 2nd class." She said the last part with some  
authority. Myria, however, took back her hand right before Elisa grabbed it.  
"A cop?" she asked, then turned to David, "Why'd ya call the cops for?"  
"Elisa," Goliath said, perturbed, "is a very close friend of the clan."  
"Oh!" this time, Myria blushed, "I'm sorry." They shook hands. Myria  
again turned to Goliath.  
"And yours? I didn't get it."  
"Goliath." He was no longer flustered, but was as solemn as ever.  
"Cool. . . ah, wait." She looked pensively at Goliath, then David. "Uh,  
David and Goliath? Whose stupid idea of a joke was that?"  
"Myria . . ." Clark said, somewhat peeved.  
"Oh, fuck off," Myria pronounced loudly.  
"Myria!" Clark chided again. "I swear, are you ten or something!?"  
"Oh, calm down. I was only kidding." Goliath and Elisa exchanged a look  
here. David was chuckling, though. Fox, again, poked him in the ribs with her  
elbow. Myria spoke again:  
"So, um, where's the rest of the clan?"  
"They're inside. They can hear us."  
"Aw, man. I gotta meet everybody!" she pouted  
"Well, first-" then he suddenly stopped. "Lexington? Yes I can hear you.  
What?" Everyone now looked at him. He placed a talon in his ear. They understood  
what was going on now.  
"Oh, she's a female gargoyle. She's taller than I am, green and striped  
no less. . . is she what? . . I don't think that's an. . . *sigh* yes she is.  
what? . . what does Hudson say? . . I'll tell Elisa." He then turned to Elisa,  
bent down and whispered something. The others became a little tensed when Elisa  
looked at Myria and Clark pensively.  
"Yeah, I think it'll be okay." she finally said.  
"Very well. I, for now, have no problem with you seeing the rest of the  
clan."  
"Alright!" Myria yelled happily.  
"Do not make me regret this." Goliath said. He pointed to the door where  
he came out from earlier.  
"Cool," Myria said and they went inside. Which is when Goliath noticed  
the large sword attached to her back.  
  
* * *  
  
Demona has received a few surprises in her life. The loss of her clan,  
surviving mortal wounds, Goliath gliding down to save the bitch Maza instead of  
her. But very few compared to the utter shock and abashment she felt when  
something barreled into her midflight that evening. Later in her life, hundreds,  
thousands of years from now, she would still recall this night. The night her  
world began to turn completely upside-down.  
But for now, all she felt was something grip her waist, turn her around  
and throw her down. Moments later she almost passed out as she landed hard on a  
nearby rooftop. More or less conscious though returned to her and she tried to  
stand up and focus her eyes on her assailant. She was coughing and saw only  
stars in front of her. She heard something metallic moving over to her, and she  
willed her eyes to focus. As she stood up she finally saw who attacked her, then  
quickly summed up his physical attributes. Standing not 10 meters away from her  
was someone clad in white plated armor. But the armor wasn't medieval in design,  
but rather looked modern and sleek. And thick. Not unlike something she or  
Xanatos would design. From the shape of its feet and lack of wings and tail, she  
guessed it was human. Its head was covered in a helm, white as well. The face  
only had two almond shaped holes for the eyes and three long slits near where  
the mouth would be for breath. The back of the helm was ornated with runes she  
had never seen before. It stood hunched over slightly with its arms dangling in  
front of him. The fingertips of its gauntlets were pointed, like talons. And it  
was staring at her. Her eyes began to glow red, and she prepared herself.  
"Alright, human," she growled, feeling a bit better, "its time I show-"  
But she was cut off when it charged. Though peeved further by the interruption,  
she took a defensive stance. It was on her quickly, and tried to punch her, a  
right, but she ducked it. However, its left was coming up fast, and she had her  
arm up to block. She screamed when the parried arm broke her own forearm. Her  
scream was cut short by a right to her abdomen. She spit blood. Her attacker  
continued with several blows to her head and stomach, and it was all going too  
fast for her to defend. It finished with a roundhouse kick, and Demona was on  
the ground, coughing up more blood. It then grabbed her by the tail, spun her  
around once, and threw her against a staircase wall. The next building over. She  
hit the wall hard, and saw nothing but white in front of her, her mind barely  
registering the pain. With her last conscious effort, she lifted her good  
arm and shouted:  
"Lucidus Murus!" and passed out.  
  
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E-mails are more than welcome. . . they're BEGGED for! Jeez, am I 14m3 or what? 


	3. Discoveries

The Nameless  
Ch.3 "Discoveries"  
EfrainMan  
rosavillalobos@mindspring.com  
  
I dinnae own Gargoyles. . . but if any of you Disney guys wanna give it to me,  
that's cool. Any original characters belong to my dark, twisted imagination, so  
if you wanna use 'em, you gotta ask the voice in my head that tells me to kill.  
  
* * *  
  
"I guess it's time for me to talk, huh?" Myria asked after she was  
introduced to the rest of the clan. Under the watchful eye of Clark, she managed  
to keep her comments tasteful, but she was just itching for a chance to call  
Lexington "shorty" or Broadway "chubby". She had no idea what the girl saw in  
him. If those three were all she had to choose from, at least she could've  
picked the handsome one.  
"What kind of gen do ye have for us, lass?" Hudson asked.  
"First is this," she took out a book and handed it to Goliath, "a book  
found, along with some others, in an airtight, preservative bath." But before  
Goliath could open it, his attention, as well as the rest of the clan's, was  
captivated by her next item, which she set on a nearby table.  
"It's a gun. . ." Broadway said with some disdain.  
"Yes, it was found in a hermetically sealed container," Clark said.  
Elisa looked it over and guesses it was a heavy machinegun. It was four feet  
long, a foot tall, five inches wide dull gray, and barely resembled anything  
she'd ever seen. It was shaped like an oversized M-60 or M-240 without a stock  
and only half of the barrel. She didn't see any sort of a magazine, and it had a  
second, wider muzzle under the first. The handle and trigger were quite larger  
than she'd seen on military hardware, too.  
"I guess we'll start with this bad boy," she said as she picked it up by  
its shoulder strap, walked over to Brooklyn and handed him the weapon, "as you  
seem more interested in it." Brooklyn held it somewhat wearily in his hands.  
"What does this have to do with anything?" he asked.  
"Well, look at this," she pointed to the grip on the barrel, "the grip  
doesn't have rounded grooves like human weapons. They're pointed at the end,  
like talons. The handle and trigger are bigger, too. Does it feel light?"  
"No, it's actually a little bit heavy."  
"Okay, now hand it over to Ms. Maza there for me, wouldya?" He did so  
and Elisa oomphed as she almost dropped it.  
"Man, this thing's heavy!"  
"40 pounds. Of course, that's nothing for a gargoyle. Now try to pull  
the trigger. It's not loaded and I emptied the breech myself." Elisa nodded,  
pointed the gun at a wall, and tried to pull the trigger. She could barely bring  
it halfway.  
"Now you try, uh, Brooklyn, right?"  
"Yeah," he said when he took the gun from Elisa. He managed to pull the  
trigger with no trouble. "Easy. Wait. . . are you saying this gun was made for a  
gargoyle?"  
"That's right! Boy, you catch on quick, don'tcha?"  
"Let's say it is," Broadway said, "what's so amazing about that?"  
"Yeah," Lexington said, "We've seen gargoyles use custom-made lasers  
before."  
"It's an rifled machinegun, actually. 25mm shells, 1000 rpm, max  
effective range of one thousand yards-"  
"Myria, that's not important right now," Clark said.  
"Heh, sorry. The main thing is that these things are ten thousand years  
old."  
"What!?" was the simultaneous reply from the clan and humans.  
"Ain't it crazy? Clark's people verified their age, despite the  
preservative shit, and found them to be exactly a fuckin' lot of years old."  
"If you want," Clark said, "I'm sure David's people can verify the age."  
"Now, check the book out," Myria said as she pointed to Goliath. He  
looked at the cover.  
"I do not recognize the writing."  
"Of course not, it hasn't been used in ten thousand years," Clark said.  
"Open it, open it!" Myria said animatedly and Goliath did so.  
"There are maps of the Earth. . ."  
"It's like a visual dictionary," she went over to Goliath and turned the  
pages in his hands. "Now, see the buildings? They look like human buildings, but  
they have doors at every floor. For gliding! And look, a couple of pages ahead,  
they have animals, just regular animals. Lions, tigers, bears-"  
"Don't say it, Myria," Clark chided. She stuck her tongue out at him.  
"The animals," she continued, "are being compared in size to each other  
in this illustration. And to gargoyles! And humans!"  
"We found about half a dozen books, and they not only showed gargoyles  
as commonplace, but also as dominant in the Pacific. It's all still being  
translated, but we haven't gone public because some things don't quite add up,  
yet. It's a bit sensational, too."  
"What they got was that a long ass time ago, there were two dominant and  
advanced civilizations on Earth. The humans had one on the island of Atlantis,  
and our kind had one on an equally large island in the Pacific. Bigger than  
Australia! And they had it happenin'! They found this stuff on an unexplored  
atoll in the French Poly-somethings."  
"French Polynesians. And while it seems they were about twenty-five  
years more advanced than we are now, they had little knowledge of each other.  
Apparently they kept to themselves." Goliath now began to pass the book around.  
The clan members began to leaf through it.  
"Is that sword strapped on yuir back part of this civilization, too?"  
Hudson asked.  
"Whu? Oh, yeah! My sword. . ."  
"The thing is attached to your spine and you forget it?" Clark said.  
"Bite me," she replied. "This is a weapon that was used by the Royal  
Guard." She reached back and grabbed the sword's grip. There was a small click  
and she brought it around in front of her. She stood it vertically and held it  
by the cross-guard. It was five feet long, and the hilt was a foot of that. The  
cross-guard was simply shaped, but ornated with six red and blue jewels. The  
blade was double-edged and black except the edges, which were metallic. It also  
curved inwardly just above the hilt, and it had a double-pointed tip that  
resembled a crescent. There were also four large, red characters written on the  
blade vertically.  
"We know," Myria continued, "that it was used by gargoyles because of  
the tip, which is open like that to accommodate the tail. And it curves inwardly  
up here for the wings. Cool, huh? Plus, the thing weighs almost as much as the  
gun. There's no way a human could wield this!" About this time, Lexington was  
handed the book and he became engrossed with it.  
"Now look at the symbols," Clark said. "The first, we believe, means  
'create'. The second is 'friend', the third is 'destroy', and the last we're  
pretty sure is 'enemy'. We're still working on parsing and construing."  
"It's the motto of the Royal Guard," Myria said, "uh. . . we believe."  
She then turned the sword around. "And this is the crest of the Royal Clan."  
"What!?"  
"That!?"  
"How can this be have been used by gargoyles?" Goliath asked. The crest  
was a laurel wreath and curved lightning bolt surrounding a hammer. It was  
crowned with a pair of gargoyle wings. "It looks like the Quarrymen insignia!"  
"The, uh. . . who? Uh, Quarrymen?" Myria asked.  
"The Quarrymen," Goliath said with a growl, "are a group of humans that  
are trying to exterminate our kind. Their insignia is a hammer and circle made  
to resemble a 'Q'."  
"What!?" Myria growled and her eyes began to glow. Yellow. "How dare  
they. . . DEFILE the Royal Crest!" She then calmed, "The hammer was supposed to  
signify the inherent fragility of a ruler. Long ago, the Royal Guard did not  
turn to stone so they could guard during the day."  
"How?" Brooklyn asked.  
"Beats me. Anyways," her tone was quite brusque, "one of the rights they  
held was the power to smash any rulers if they were being unjust or otherwise.  
Monarchs soon realized that being just and fair rulers would keep them alive,  
and to remind future lineage, they added the hammer to the crest. The practice  
was soon forgotten by most, though, as it became unnecessary. And these mother  
fuckers are using it in a, in a. . . genocidal campaign!"  
"Myria, we'll worry about them when the time comes." Clark said.  
"*sigh* You're right. Okay, that's about all we have. Any questions?"  
"OK, say this is all true?" Brooklyn asked, "What happened to them? How  
come nobody knew about them until now?"  
"Well, my astute friend, that is a strikingly short but mournful story."  
  
* * *  
  
Demona awoke to the sound of hammers pounding in her head. She still  
could not see very well, and her arm was throbbing. She clutched it with her  
good hand and groaned as she tried to sit up. When she was seated, her breathing  
turned heavy from the exertion, and she tried to focus her eyes again. Her head  
was still pounding. Pain begun to impinge upon her again and she hissed. In a  
few moments her vision began to clear again. Which is about when she realized  
the pounding wasn't in her head, but outside. The thing was still there, bashing  
against the invisible wall she erected around herself. She coughed blood and  
groaned.  
"Give it up human," she said hoarsely, "That barrier's impenetrable."  
But it continued undaunted. Then it stopped and let out loud, bloodcurdling  
roar. A roar, Demona realized, that no human could make. It then tried to drive  
its pointed gauntlets into the barrier. Seconds later, the fingers punctured the  
barrier and, in one deft motion, ripped it apart. Demona could see shreds of  
energy fall as if it tore a piece of cloth.  
'It's not human,' she thought. It ran to her and grabbed her by the neck  
as if to throttle her. She felt a tremendous strain on her neck, but managed to  
look into its eyes. White, pupil-less eyes.  
"What are you?!" Then nothing.  
  
Holding the severed head and spinal column, it relished in its latest  
kill. Seeing the blood flow down its arm and the torso's blood pool at its feet  
brought it ecstasy. Something was telling it that NOTHING compared to the thrill  
of KILLING. It flung the bloodied mass down and began to walk away. It had to  
start looking for THEM again. The desire to KILL THEM was stronger now. Before  
that, though, it had a desire to wash up in the river, as it was told to be  
CLEAN. But for now, it basked in the luxurious RED that covered its arms.  
  
* * *  
  
"Both the people of Atlantis and our people-"  
"Whom we haven't figured out the name of yet."  
"Were very civilized. Almost no crime. But there were still bad eggs.  
And bad eggs they were. Only those with the most evil intentions could not be  
assimilated into law-abiding society. A few knew this and escaped to somewhere  
in the Americas. These were the worst criminals in human and gargoyle society,  
and they joined forces to forward their ambitions. They wanted to remain as  
anonymous and cryptic as possible, so they called themselves 'The Nameless'. One  
of their projects was to create a genetically engineered thug. Unstoppable and  
totally loyal. But the assholes lost control of the very first one they made.  
And it was powerful. They used DNA from all the races. They never even named the  
project. It was set loose in Atlantis and destroyed most of the island within a  
very short time. Our people feared for their lives, so they decided to destroy  
it while it was still in Atlantis. Using nuclear arms left over from earlier  
war tensions with the people of Atlantis. Needless to say, that's how the island  
was destroyed, as it took hundreds of nukes to kill the Un-Named. But before the  
missiles fell, someone on the human side who thought the gargoyles sent the Un-  
Named launched all of their nukes in retaliation. And thusly our people were  
destroyed. The only ones who were able to escape were the Royal Clan."  
"Wow," Elisa said  
"That's horrible," Angela said.  
"Aye, like ye said, that is mournful," Hudson said.  
"So wait," Brooklyn said, "are you saying that all the gargoyles in the  
world are descended from an ancient royal clan?  
"Alright! 10 points," Myria said happily. At this time the clan started  
to talk amongst themselves about everything they had just heard. While still  
skeptical, they said they'd feel better once they and Xanatos looked at and  
confirmed what they said and the other books. Off to the side, David spoke to  
Clark:  
"They were more advanced, huh?"  
"Yes. So?"  
"So? This wouldn't be where you got your nanotech advancements, would  
it?"  
"Why Davie? Do you expect me to reveal my company secrets?" They then  
began to laugh. Around this time, Angela asked if all this made her a princess,  
and the whole clan was suddenly elated, with Broadway bowing and calling her  
'Princess Angela'.  
"Hey, guys," Myria said and everyone turned to her, "Now, you're  
probably wonderin' why we came all this way to tell ya this. Well, the reason is  
two-fold. First there's another part of the ruin that's sealed beyond their  
ability to open. We think someone of royal blood may be able to do something  
about that. And second. . ." Myria hesitated now.  
"Second," Clark continued, "is that we have encountered an Un-Named. If  
we didn't know any better, we'd say that the Nameless are still extant. Myria,  
look." He pointed to her sword and she turned.  
"Holy shit!" Myria grabbed the sword and gun and ran out of the room.  
Clark followed her.  
"What's happening?" Goliath asked.  
"Goliath," Lexington said, "the crest on the sword was glowing." Goliath  
growled and walked out after Clark. The rest of the clan looked at each other  
and followed suit. Before Goliath could say anything to Myria when he stepped  
out onto the courtyard, she spoke:  
"When the symbol glows, it means a gargoyle is dead or dying within a  
few miles."  
"What? Who. . ."  
"One of the clones? Or Demona." Elisa said. They were all outside now.  
"But Demona's immortal," Broadway said.  
"She can still be killed," Brooklyn said scornfully, "she just doesn't  
stay that way. If it is her, I hope it's real painful." The disillusioned look  
on Angela's face went unnoticed. They did notice that Myria was pointing her  
sword out, flat side down, and turning slowly in a circle.  
"What are-"  
"The characters point in the direction of where the gargoyle is. . . and  
it is that way!" She replaced the sword on her back. "I'm going over there right  
now. The sword won't glow forever."  
"Then we shall go as well," Goliath said. "If there is a gargoyle dead  
or dying nearby, I want to know why. Hudson and Bronx can stay with the castle.  
The rest of us-"  
"I'm going, too!" Elisa said.  
"Very, well. Direct the way, Myria."  
"A'ight! C'mon, Clarky-boy!"  
"Who said you could call me that?"  
"The person who's gonna give ya a ride, that's who biatch! Now, git on."  
Clark walked around to Myria and wrapped his arms around her neck. "He's my  
navigator."  
"I see." Goliath then picked up Elisa in his usual manner.  
"All humans safely on board, sir!" Myria said cheerfully.  
"Heh. Let us go, then." The gargoyles unfurled their wings, then gasped  
when Myria opened hers. All thirty-five feet of them.  
  
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
E-mails are more than welcome...they're BEGGED for! Jeez, am I 14m3 or what? 


	4. Musings

The Nameless  
Ch.4 "Musings"  
EfrainMan  
rosavillalobos@mindspring.com  
  
I dinnae own Gargoyles. . . but if any of you Disney guys wanna give it to me,  
that's cool. Any original characters belong to my dark, twisted imagination, so  
if you wanna use 'em, you gotta ask the voice in my head that tells me to kill.  
  
* * *  
  
They walked up the stairs to the parapets in silence, somewhat awed at  
the size of her wings. Her wing joints went from just under her shoulder to just  
above her waist, and her blonde, ponytailed hair was noticed for the first time.  
Goliath looked over at Hudson to ask him about it before they left, but he was  
pensive about something. He decided to leave it for now. He turned to Myria and  
inspected what was under her wings. A crimson body suit covered her from neck to  
ankles, with thick, grey Kevlar around her shoulders, torso, elbows and knees.  
She also had a loose belt with several pouches around her waist.  
"Goliath," Lexington whispered, "I don't think this is such a good idea  
anymore."  
"I am a bit worried as well," he rumbled. "Brooklyn, Broadway, glide a  
distance from us and keep a look out."  
"Okay."  
"Good idea."  
"Everyone, keep an eye out." Within moments the clan was airborne. For a  
few minutes they were all silent. Below them, the city seemed radiant but static  
from their altitude. People's lives went on, oblivious to the ancient warriors  
that soared above them. Goliath spoke first:  
"Elisa, were you not supposed to be working today?"  
"Oh! I wanted to surprise you, but I traded a couple of days off with   
another detective. He really needed next Saturday among other days. I'm just  
glad Matt was okay with it. I have today and tomorrow off. And I wanted to do  
something special, too." Elisa nuzzled Goliath's cheek and neck, and he gave a  
low growl at the sensation.  
"We shall make up for it. Hopefully the rest of the night will be freed  
up for us." Elisa rested her head on his shoulder at gazed into his eyes. "I  
don't mean to sound cruel, but I hope it is Demona as well. We know she'll be  
well, physically, in the end."  
"Awww," Myria said to them, her head upside down, "how cute."  
"Myria!" Clark said.  
"What?!"  
"Mush!"  
"Fuck you!" She turned her head forward again, and the couple tried to  
ignore their reddening faces. Elisa then noticed how Clark rode Myria. His legs  
were wrapped around her waist and he propped himself up with his hands. He was  
looking at the sword, the bottom half of which had retracted into the top half.  
"Goliath, do you think those to are, you know. . . together?"  
"I cannot surmise anything at this point. They seem to be very intimate  
and comfortable with each other. But. . ." Angela and Lexington glided in closer  
to them, and Goliath kept his thoughts to himself for the moment.  
"Oh great ocean," Myria sang, and the rest looked at her quizzically.  
She continued:  
  
"Oh great sea,  
Run to the ocean,  
Run to the sea."  
  
They glided a little closer to the rest. Clark continued, puzzling them  
further:  
  
"You know he got the cure,  
You know he went astray,  
He used to stay awake,  
To drive the dreams he had away,  
He wanted to believe,  
In the hands of love."  
  
They sang together:  
  
"His head it felt heavy,  
As he cut across the land,  
A dog started crying,  
Like a broken hearted man,  
At the howling wind,  
At the howling wind."  
  
They sang more fervently now, while looking at the clan:  
  
"He went deeper into black,  
Deeper into white,  
Could see the stars shine,  
Like nails in the night,  
He felt the healing,  
Healing, healing,  
Healing hands of love,  
Like the stars shiny shiny,  
From above,  
  
Hand in the pocket,  
Finger on the steel,  
The pistol weighed heavy,  
And his heart he could feel,  
Was beating, beating,  
Beating, beating,  
Oh my love, Oh my love,  
Oh my love, oh my love."  
  
"Uh. . ." Elisa said.  
"Heh, just a little thing we do when we get bored," Myria said.  
"It helps that our singing isn't too shabby."  
"Clark does a mean Bono."  
"I noticed," Elisa said.  
"Bono?" Goliath asked her.  
"Lead singer for U2, one of the most famous rock bands in the world."   
Elisa would have asked them more questions, but they lost a little altitude on a  
downdraft. All except Myria, who stayed at the same height, her wings beating  
noticeably.  
"Is she flying?" Lexington asked.  
"It appears so. Myria!" Goliath called to her. She looked down and  
immediately stopped flapping. She angled down and leveled with the rest.  
"I'm reeeeeally sorry about that, I forgot to just keep gliding."  
"You are. . . full of surprises." Goliath told her. Myria grinned  
sheepishly. "How close are we? Can you tell?"  
"Not too far. The characters light up one by one as you get closer."  
"Good."  
"Myria," Angela asked, "can everyone in your clan fly?" Myria stayed  
silent for a moment. She sighed.  
"I don't have a clan. I was living alone in the Bay area when Clark  
found me ten years ago. I was living in the Golden Gate National Recreational  
Area, barely surviving. Then-"  
"Myria, the characters stopped glowing!"  
"How close?"  
"The last character was nearly full."  
"They're around here somewhere." The gargoyles caught a draft and  
hovered. Brooklyn and Broadway caught up in a short while.  
"What should we do?" she asked.  
"You said they're around here," Goliath said. He thought a few things  
over quickly, then said, "We should split up, cover a wider area. Angela, go  
with Myria. Lexington, come with. You two over that way. Meet back here in ten  
minutes."  
"Cool," Myria then turned to Angela, "Let's go, girl."  
"Uh," she turned to Goliath, and he nodded. "Okay, let's go."  
"Goliath," Broadway said once they left, "why are you letting her go  
with them. We're still not sure if they're legit."  
"I know you are worried about her, but she can take care of herself. Now  
let's go." He and Lexington glided off. Broadway sighed.  
"If it means anything," Brooklyn said, "I don't think those guys are  
gonna be trouble. We're all just a little more paranoid right now than usual."  
"I guess. C'mon, let's get this over with."  
  
* * *  
  
"Goliath," Elisa said, "there's something that isn't quite adding up  
with those two."  
"What?"  
"Myria said she didn't have a clan. But when she introduced herself, she  
gave a middle and last name, remember? That doesn't sound very clanless to me."  
"Hmmm. . ."  
"And," Lexington said, "she sure seemed to know a lot about an ancient  
civilization when they said they've gleaned very little from untranslated text."  
"Clark also said that he followed the Grimorum to find you guys. How did  
he know to follow that particular book?"  
"I see. Thank you for bringing this to my attention. We shall ask them  
when we return."  
  
* * *  
  
'You used me!'  
'It started that way, but now I wont hurt you for the world.'  
'Save it for your next performance, Demona!' Those were the last words  
she told her before today. She had hurt her. She used her. Was she truly devoid  
of compassion? Why was she thinking this right now? She sighed. She was still  
unsure whether to give up on her. Brooklyn would say she should. Goliath might,  
too. Broadway would support her, warily. Hudson and Elisa might, too. Lexington  
didn't seem to want to get involved. She was her mother, but she was dangerous.  
There were times, when she spoke with the Xanatos family, that she felt she was  
redeemable like them. But when she spoke with the clan. . . she shook her head  
in frustration, wondering again why she was thinking this now.  
"There!" Myria shouted. Angela looked. And blanched.  
"Mother. . ."  
  
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
E-mails are more than welcome...they're BEGGED for! Jeez, am I 14m3 or what?  
  
P.S., I apologize for forcing Goliath Chronicles dialogue upon you. 


	5. Uninvited

The Nameless  
Ch.5 "Uninvited"  
EfrainMan  
rosavillalobos@mindspring.com  
  
I dinnae own Gargoyles. . . but if any of you Disney guys wanna give it to me,  
that's cool. Any original characters belong to my dark, twisted imagination, so  
if you wanna use 'em, you gotta ask the voice in my head that tells me to kill.  
  
* * *  
  
They glided down to the carnage below them. Angela ran to Demona, eyes  
swelling with tears. Clark dismounted Myria, and they looked at each other  
sullenly. Angela stopped right in front of the corpse and stared. The sight of  
the headless torso affected her little. The sight of the wings shredded useless  
affected her little. The sight of the spine, covered in blood and lymph that was  
pooling at her feet affected her some. The sight of her mother's head, lifeless  
and in mid-scream, affected some more. But what drove her over the edge was the  
smell. Her nose protested smelling blood, flesh, lymph, organs, marrow. Her hand  
began to flex open and closed and the color had now drained completely from her  
face. Her breathing was slow and ragged. Her tail curled around her leg. It  
would be some time before she cried. She wasn't that collected yet.  
"I'm gonna secure perimeter," Myria said to Clark softly. He nodded and  
she walked slowly away.  
"Hey, uh-"  
"H-elp m-m-me," Angela said weakly, "we have t-to help her. . ."  
"Um, I don't think-"  
She'll be alright if. . ." Angela bent down slowly and reached out to  
Demona's head. But froze short. Her hand began to shake. An image of maggot-  
ridden carrion flashed in her head and she ran off to the side of the rooftop.  
Her dry heaves were the only sound for some time. Clark grimaced. Myria came  
around again, told Clark there was nothing and went to Angela. Enveloping Angela  
in a hug, she tried to give her some platitudes. She had stopped retching.  
"Look, I'm really sorry you had t-"  
"She should be fine," she interrupted softly.  
"What?"  
"My mother," her voice strengthened, "is immortal. She should h-heal."  
"You're shittin' me?" She looked at Demona then walked over to the body.  
As she examined the cadaver, the blood that had spread was shrinking back into  
the body, and the spine was very slowly moving towards the torso.  
"Clark!" she shouted at the top of her lungs.  
"What?"  
"Dude, she's like regeneralling or sumthin'!"  
"Regeneral. . .?" Clark looked at Demona. "What do you see?"  
"Look, she's slowly putting herself back together." Clark scrutinized  
the carcass, then drew back.  
"You're right. She's regenerating. Amazing."  
"Yeah, that's what I said. Here, help me." Myria gingerly grabbed the  
spinal column and carefully attempted to reinsert it into the torso.  
"Ewwwww. . ." But as Clark bent down to assist, the spine went back in  
on its own with a sickening squelch. The wound around the neck began to heal.  
"Fuckin' rad."  
"Angela," Clark said, "will she wake up again?" Angela stood up and  
walked over to them. Her wings were caped and she seemed more resolute.  
"I. . . believe so. I want to make sure she sees me first."  
  
* * *  
  
She cared not of her opponent anymore. And he did not care either. They  
could only stare at what had begun. Her team had failed. She had failed. She  
felt an arm around her and she saw her commander and lover. She embraced him,  
knowing she'll never see him again. The white sphere that would soon destroy the  
world was growing, turning buildings to dust as it touched them. But she could  
not dare glance at it.  
'Demona'  
She looked up at the voice. Had she heard that? What did they say?  
The sphere was getting closer.  
'Demona'  
Again? What is that word? What language? She'd never heard it before.  
For some reason, she glanced at her reflection in a nearby window. Her white fur  
contrasted with her black uniform. Pointed ears stood out of her short, brown  
mane.  
'Cat'  
Different words this time. Her reflection was wrong. She shouldn't look  
like that? It was almost here. Who was she? Who? A vision of blue. Wings?  
'Me'  
Almost here. She held her lover tightly.  
'Argarath'  
Consumed.  
Nothing.  
'Argarath'  
  
* * *  
  
Demona gasped a first breath. She looked around, confused. Then she saw  
Angela. She remembered where she was. She moaned as she tried to get up. Angela  
helped prop her up against the same wall she had previously slammed into. As she  
opened her eyes and focused on Angela, she let out a hiss of pain. At the same  
time they said:  
"Mother?"  
"Angela?"  
Angela steeled herself and said, "mother, what happened? And I want the  
truth. No tricks like the last two times."  
"Tricks? But I. . ." she sighed, hesitated, then said, "I was attacked.  
By something. But if you're not even going to believe me. . ."  
"Just tell me." She tried to remain stoic, but there was still a hint of  
compassion. Demona regarded her daughter for a second, then spoke:  
"I was gliding, and this. . . thing came out of nowhere and attacked me.  
I tried to fight it. It wasn't as fast as me, but it was much stronger. I broke  
my arm just parrying a blow. It broke through my defenses. It wasn't supposed to  
do that. . ." she gave a shuddering sigh.  
"What was it?"  
"At first I thought it was a human in an exosuit. But it could roar just  
like a gargoyle. And it penetrated a magical barrier I was led to believe was  
infallible. And those eyes. . ."  
"White, pupil-less eyes? No emotion in them whatsoever?" Myria asked.  
"What? Yes. Who are you?"  
"I'm Myria. And I've fought one before."  
"You've fought one?" Angela and Demona asked.  
"Was it wearing white armor?"  
"Yes."  
"Then I have." At that Demona tried to get up. Angela gently restrained  
her.  
"We should probably wait for the rest of the clan," Clark said, "they'll  
be looking for us when we don't come back."  
"Yeah, chill, babe." Myria told Demona.  
"Hmph. Who's that?" She said disdainfully at Clark.  
"That's Clark," Myria said, "my human."  
"YOUR human?" he retorted.  
"Damn straight. You my bitch." She patted him on the back heartily.  
"Yeah, right. The next sound you hear is Myria's scream when I step on  
her tail." Demona looked at them quizzically, then asked:  
"How did you find me?"  
"They led us here." Angela said. Demona then growled. A whoosh overhead  
signaled the arrival of the rest of the clan.  
"It IS Demona!" Brooklyn said, his eyes glowing.  
"What is happening here?" Goliath asked. He set down Elisa.  
"Father, Demona was attacked."  
"What?"  
"Another trick, I bet," Brooklyn said. "Don't you ever quit?"  
"Trick!?" Demona shouted, her eyes glowing.  
"Demona was killed!" Angela shouted.  
"Guys," Myria said, "she was attacked by an Un-Named." There was a pause  
as the clan processed that statement.  
"You mean, the same thing that destroyed Atlantis?" Lexington asked.  
"Well, more or less. It's not as powerful, but still a threat. We found  
her here with her spine pulled clean out of her body. Swip!" she made a pulling  
motion, "No way you can fake that."  
"I bet she's in cahoots with it," Brooklyn said. Demona growled.  
"Brooklyn, it KILLED her!" Angela shouted.  
"SO?! We know Demona would do anything to-"  
"She wouldn't-"  
"Are you STILL protecting her!? After what she did to you?"  
"I. . ."  
"If anything those two are suspicious!" Demona said, "They led you  
straight to me! They're the ones who are in league with it!"  
"Oh," Brooklyn said, "don't try to turn the attention from you."  
"Hey!" Myria shouted. "What is going on here!? Honestly, you people are  
so fucking paranoid! There's an Un-Named running loose in the city and-"  
"That YOU released!" Demona shouted.  
"What!?" Myria, Clark and Brooklyn said together.  
"Enough!" Goliath shouted. Everyone was startled by him except Demona  
who was peeved by his interruption. "Demona, tell us what happened, and no one  
interrupts her." He looked to Brooklyn. She looked at him disdainfully.  
"Since you asked so nicely," 'and since I can't get up yet' she thought,  
"I was attacked by what I thought was a human in an exosuit. But it was far too  
strong for that. Maybe gargoyle strength enhanced by a suit," she suddenly  
realized. "I put up a defensive barrier, but it ripped through it. And it could  
roar like a gargoyle. Then, it killed me," she said stoically.  
"We found her here," Angela began, sighing, "her. . ." she couldn't con-  
tinue.   
"She described," Myria said, "an Un-Named."  
"How do you know what and Un-Named looks like?" Elisa asked.  
"Because I've fought one. It's how Clark and I met ten years ago. One of  
those things found me and tried to kill me. Almost did." she smiled, "but then  
Clark happened by in his cute little Jeep carting this sword. I used it to cut  
it in half. We've been shittin' around together ever since." She turned to  
Demona, "Now, tell me, did it have wings, a tail or digigrade feet? And did it  
use magic?"  
"No. None of those things."  
"No wings or tail, but the feet are different," She said softly.  
"They're trying different combinations?" Clark asked.  
"Probably. The first Un-Named was created from all the races. But they  
had access to them back then. Now, they only have human and gargoyle. The second  
that I killed looked like a wing-less, tail-less gargoyle. This one has human  
feet. If we kill it, they'll probably stick wings or a tail on it."  
"They?" Elisa and Demona asked. They glared at each other.  
"The Nameless. We think they might be active again."  
"Who are they?" Demona asked.  
"The Nameless are an ancient criminal organization. They created the Un-  
Named from human and gargoyle DNA, at least for now. Imagine if they get DNA  
from those fucking Fay." She growled. Demona gave her a look, then said:  
"Why would they want to corrupt the perfect gargoyle construction with  
human filth?"  
"Uh. . . well. . ." Myria was somewhat confused by her question, "'cause  
for one thing human feet are more effective in battle. Gargoyles get more broken  
ankles than humans. It doesn't turn to stone during the day, either. Like I said  
they're trying out different combinations to see what works best." Demona said  
nothing.  
"So," Goliath said, "something strong enough to brutally kill Demona is  
running loose in the city?"  
"Yeah. We think it's only after gargoyles right now, but who knows if  
that'll change soon. Speaking of Demona, did you know she's immortal? It was the  
most fuckin' awesome thing I've ever SEEN! She was like, dead and them swip! She  
was all good! It was fuckin' sweet! OW!" Clark stepped on her tail. "The fuck  
you do that for you donkey raping shit-eater?!"  
"Are you insane?! That was the most rude, tact-less. . . anything I've  
ever witnessed!"  
"HMPH!" Myria became quite cross now, and gave him the finger.  
"So what do we do with her?" Brooklyn asked. "Where should we confine  
her?"  
"Confine?" Clark asked.  
"Confine her?" Angela said, "She was attacked!"  
"She's dangerous!"  
"She didn't do anything wrong!"  
"Quiet, both of you!" Goliath growled.  
"Father, you can't lock her up for being attacked!" He gave her a look.  
Angela quieted. He turned his attention to Demona. Her eyes held the same con-  
tempt he'd always seen, but there was something different. Fear?  
"I won't."  
"What!?" Brooklyn shouted. Goliath growled at him.  
"There's no place to put her! Angela. . . just take her home."  
"Thank you father."  
"But-"  
"We'll discuss it at the castle, Brooklyn."  
"I don't need an escort," Demona said.  
"You cannot glide with those wings. They're still shredded." Demona  
growled at that.  
"I don't think I can carry her, father."  
"I'll take her," Myria said.  
"You're crazy if you think I'll lead some stranger to my home."  
"Fine, Ms. fuckin-paranoid. I'll take you as close as you'll let me and  
drop you off, okay? I doubt you want one of them to take you, right? And on the  
way over, I'll regale you with tales of ancient gargoyle civilization." Myria  
offered her hand to Demona, but she batted it away and stood on her own. Angela  
still clung to her.  
"I'll be fine, child." Myria grabbed Demona slung her over her shoulder,  
opened her wings and took off. They could hear Demona's protests for quite some  
time. Clark came up to Angela.  
"Wanna follow her? I don't like leaving Myria alone for too long, she's  
very. . . troublesome." Angela looked to Goliath. He nodded. She picked him up,  
and they went off.  
"Let us return to the castle."  
  
* * *  
  
"What a borin' night."  
"You said it. We'll never find a gargoyle.  
"Wait. . . what's that?"  
"What? Oh. . ."  
"Maybe this night won't be so boring after all."  
"Follow them." The Quarryman helicopter took off and followed Angela  
from a distance where they would not be heard.  
  
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
E-mails are more than welcome...they're BEGGED for! Jeez, am I 14m3 or what? 


	6. Confrontations

The Nameless  
Ch.6 "Confrontations"  
EfrainMan  
rosavillalobos@mindspring.com  
  
I dinnae own Gargoyles. . . but if any of you Disney guys wanna give it to me,  
that's cool. Any original characters belong to my dark, twisted imagination, so  
if you wanna use 'em, you gotta ask the voice in my head that tells me to kill.  
  
* * *  
  
Demona was quieter now that Myria moved her from her shoulders to her  
arms. And she had become engrossed in Myria's tale of forgotten civilizations.  
So little she said that Myria had to ask her a couple of times if she was still  
listening. However, she didn't like the idea of humans digging their artifacts  
up. At least, humans not on her payroll. She definitely needed to gain control  
of the excavations. But what she could not believe was that gargoyles had  
created weapons as destructive as the humans have. Inconceivable. They must have  
been mixed up. The humans were probably the ones who destroyed everything, and  
the excavators had blamed the gargoyles. Absurd.  
"There," Demona said as she pointed to a building. It was very close to  
her house, but the stranger would never know. "That rooftop will be fine."  
"Cool." They landed on a roof that had several rectangular A/C machines  
on half of the area, about three feet on all sides. There was also an elevator  
shaft housing between them and the empty area.  
"Alright," Myria took out a pen and paper from one of her pouches, wrote  
something on it and handed it to Demona, "that's my cell number. Call me if you  
see another Un-Named."  
"You have a cell phone?" She was a bit amazed.  
"Duh. Clark got it for me and I integratified it into my gun. A real  
fuckin' life saver. I dunno how people survived without it."  
'Integratify? Oh, integrate.' Demona thought as she put the number away,  
and they became silent. Awkwardly so.  
"Well," Myria said finally, "you prolly wanna wait 'til I git before you  
go home, so, see ya." She waved to her and Demona nodded mechanically. She had  
to admit, it had been a while since someone treated her with amicability without  
some twisted purpose. Save for her daughter. But as Myria began to walk away,  
Angela landed not far from them. She set down Clark and went to her mother.  
"Daughter?"  
"The fuck are you doing here?" Myria asked Clark, feigning anger.  
"Keeping an eye on you that's what." Clark smiled mischievously. Myria  
gave him a light bonk on the head. Demona looked at their interchange with some  
curiosity. Angela interrupted her train of thought:  
"Mother, do not be alarmed, but I think we were followed."  
"What? You THINK you were followed? By whom?" She was a bit angry now,  
"Hasn't you father taught you anything about evasion?"  
"Well, we thought we heard a helicopter behind us a couple of times, but  
we saw nothing."  
"Wait," Myria said, concentrating on hearing. "I do hear a 'copter. But  
there's too much echo 'round here. Can't hear for shit where it's coming from...  
It's getting closer." They looked up and around to find it. It was still getting  
louder.  
"Shit, it's right up our asses! But where the fuck is it?" Her question  
was answered when the helicopter burst up from behind the building. It leveled  
close and parallel to the edge, and the side door opened. Nine hammer wielding  
Quarrymen leaped out and formed a line facing them. They charged their weapons.  
"I knew it!" Demona shouted, "You led the Quarrymen to us!"  
"What!?" Clark shouted.  
"Those are Quarrymen!?" Myria shouted, "Fuck this!" She raised her gun  
to them and, a few seconds later, shouted, "Withdraw or I WILL open fire!" The  
Quarrymen stopped dead in their tracks.  
"Dude, she's packin'!" one shouted.  
"Let's get outta here!" another shouted, and they ran back to the heli.  
Myria let out a deep breath and the others calmed. Angered still, Demona turned  
to Clark and was about to accuse him, but Myria spoke up first:  
"Sucks to be them. I was bluffing."  
"Bluffing?" the others asked at the same time.  
"Yeh. I tried to fire on them, but my gun's jammed." She demonstrated  
trying to pull the trigger, but it did not move. Clark groaned and Myria smiled  
sheepishly. Until a flash of red in front of her face wiped it off. Instantly,  
they turned and saw the Quarrymen were arming themselves with charged particle  
handguns, and one had fired upon them. He looked back at the rest of his team to  
make sure they were coming.  
"Oh, shit," Myria shouted and grabbed Angela by the arm and pulled her  
to safety behind the elevator shaft housing. Before she could protest, Clark  
grabbed Demona similarly and set her next to Angela. Soon, there were "laser"  
shots all around them cutting the air. Angela clutched Demona and her thoughts  
instantly went to her safety.  
"Myria, un-jam that thing and return fire!" Clark shouted.  
"Gimme a sec!" She opened her gun and began to inspect it.  
"Then give me a pistol, they took mine at Eyrie!" Myria reached back,  
pulled out a silver handgun and tossed it to Clark. The shots around them became  
less, now only trying to keep them in place. Clark ran around to where the roof  
was empty and, using the housing as cover, began to fire upon their assailants.  
After three shots he hit one of them in the upper chest and the rest fired back  
ferociously. He took cover, then fired back two rounds a few seconds later. Back  
and forth he went, firing two rounds and taking cover. He injured another in the  
arm. One of them shouted to the rest, and they ran to where the machinery was.  
As they took cover behind them, Clark finished his clip. He released it and went  
back to Myria. She was still poking around in her gun, and Angela was still with  
Demona, though more composed.  
"Myria, more clips."  
"Here," She unhooked one of her pouches and handed it to him. "Didya get  
any?"  
"Two. Hey, Demona," Clark said as he reloaded, "didn't you say you had a  
barrier spell?"  
"Yes . . . but it only works on matter, not energy."  
"Crap. Myria, give her a gun."  
"Alright." She pulled a larger pistol from a holster on her leg and held  
it out for Demona to take. She was slightly taken aback that the human was  
asking for her help.  
"Child, I need to do something." She wanted Angela to uncouple from her.  
"Oh." She started to let go, when in Clark's hiatus the Quarrymen fired  
ferociously around them, and Angela grabbed her mother tightly again. Demona  
realized it was probably Angela's first real major firefight. Even gargoyle  
warriors needed to get used to the intensity of human weapons. Myria reholstered  
her pistol and went back to her MG.  
"Damn." Clark went to the other side and spotted the Quarrymen's move-  
ments. They were using the machinery as cover to advance to their position. He  
fired at anything that moved, and they fired back sporadically. After some time,  
he was able to stop their forward progress. He had four clips left, and they   
stayed like that for a few minutes, advancing only when he reloaded. During that  
time, he shot another Quarryman, the one he injured earlier, in the neck. He  
thrashed on the ground for a minute as he suffocated, blood pooling under his  
neck. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the other he hit, now dead. They  
were very close, their fire cutting mere inches from them. Angela hugged her  
mother closer again, and Clark was down to his last clip. Demona noticed Myria,  
and she looked like almost a completely different gargoyle that the one she got  
to know just a few minutes ago. But before they could get desperate they heard a  
loud "cha-chik" behind them, and Clark thought it was the most beautiful sound  
he'd ever heard.  
"Myria!?"  
"I'm good!" she shouted just loud enough for him to hear. Angela just  
barely heard what Myria muttered softly after that. Clark fired off a few more  
rounds, then shouted:  
"I'm out!" He ran back to them and the Quarrymen saw their opportunity.  
The one who led them into their cover shouted to them to go in and finish them  
off. They got to the open space between their cover and the gargoyles' cover and  
were met by Myria and her machinegun. Before they could react she had already  
pulled the trigger. Angela yelped at the tremendous din Myria's gun produced and  
capped her ears. It almost drowned out the helicopter. Demona held her closer.  
Myria swept her gun across their attackers twice. Satisfied, she ran over in the  
direction of the still hovering helicopter and fired upon it. But, the shots  
ricocheted against the side, emanating bright sparks.  
"Grrr, heavy armor," she muttered and flipped a switch on the gun. She  
took aim and pulled the trigger. In a streak of smoke, she launched a rocket  
propelled grenade from the second barrel in the gun. It hit the side of the   
helicopter with a small explosion. However, it was still flyable and it began to  
move off. Myria unlatched a small hatch under her gun to release the smoking,  
empty shell. She reached back to yet another pouch, pulled another RPG round,  
loaded it and closed the hatch. Although the copter was further out, she still  
took aim and fired. The projectile hit near the rotor axis and ignited the fuel  
within the motor. The copter exploded and began to plummet in a ball of flame.  
Myria whooped and ran to the edge to see the crash. As took in the fiery mess  
that was about to smash into the street, she also inspected that very street to  
make sure noone was below. She exhaled when she observed it empty. Moments later  
the street was irradiated by the final explosion of the aircraft as it slammed  
into the pavement below.  
Meanwhile, the other three had come out as soon as Myria ran to the  
helicopter, and Angela froze at the scene in front of them. Clark and Demona  
only grimaced. There were five dead Quarrymen, lying in blood, gaping holes in  
various parts of their bodies. Two also had limbs torn off by the large rounds,  
one had a huge hole in his head, another was lying on his intestines that had  
been blown out and another had his head shorn off. Two were still left alive,  
screaming in agony. One was on his knees, his right arm and shoulder ripped off,  
blood trailing down the side of his body. The other was on his back, clutching  
the bloody stump that was his left leg. Clark went up to the armless one an put  
a bullet into his head. He fell like a rag doll. He ignored the other and ran to  
Myria. Demona marveled at the power of that gargoyle's weapon. She wanted one.  
Then she felt Angela turn her head onto her shoulder, and she heard her breathe  
raggedly. She wrapped her arms around her and held her tightly. Demona could not  
fathom how hard this night could have been on her daughter. But she also thought  
of the fitting end to the filth, and smiled inwardly.  
"Angela," she consoled, "you must be strong. These animals would've done  
the same to you." There was no reply. Demona sighed. Her daughter still cared  
for their kind. Even after this. Meanwhile, Clark caught up to Myria, looked  
down at the wreckage and whistled.  
"Jeez, what a mess."  
"Yep. And I didn't kill any civilians this time."  
"Good for you," he replied bitterly. "Let's get outta here." They walked  
back to the other two, and Myria went to the last Quarryman left alive. He was  
still groaning loudly, his hands around the severed leg.  
"Hey, dick," she said as she pointed a pistol at him, "you're gonna tell  
me where you Quarrymen are crashin', and I'll put you out of your misery."  
He said nothing.  
"That wound will kill you from blood loss, and we're nowhere near any  
medical facilities, so. . . if you tell me where Quarrymen HQ is, you won't take  
five really bad minutes to die."  
"I don't wanna die." he said weakly. "Please . . ."  
"Sorry, shit-face, you-"  
"Please I don't wanna die, Idon'twannadieIdon'twannadieIdon'twannadie,"  
he was convulsing badly now, blood still flowing from his leg. He then emanated  
a loud groan, and relaxed as he died. Clark sighed and Angela was looking on in  
horror. Demona was stoic.  
"Well, shit," Myria said, "he was probably just an irregular." She began  
to examine under his costume and Clark went to one of the others to do the same.  
"Myria," Clark said, "I don't even think they're irregulars. Look, this  
one has a business shirt under here." He indicated to the fallen man.  
"Huh. And look at this guy, he has a wallet, a bunch of cash," she  
stopped when she opened the wallet and saw his wife and kids, "a family."  
"Myria, these guys are vigilantes." He turned to Angela, "Angela, what  
do you know about the Quarrymen?" While Clark was looking away from Myria, she  
pocketed the money in the man's wallet.  
"They're humans who are trying to destroy our kind. Elisa told us the  
police believe they are vigilantes, civilians."  
"Man, that's whack," Myria said and sighed. "can't go killin' civilians  
all willy-nilly. Sweet weapons, though. I never thought you could put a laser on  
a unit so small." She picked one up.  
"It's charged particle weaponry, actually," Demona said.  
"No shit, huh? Well, this bad boy's a keeper." She replaced the pistol  
on her leg holster with the new one. She gave the old one to Demona. "A present.  
From a people long gone." Demona looked at her in shock, and nodded.  
'And that hammer's pretty sweet, too,' Myria thought, 'I gotta get one  
later.' Then she said:  
"And, Clark! You did pretty good for your first sortie." She went over  
and patted him on the back.  
"Pretty good? I think I performed rather well under the circumstances."  
"Eh," she shrugged, "only three hits out of. . . 75 rounds? You're a lot  
better than that, and don't say it's 'cause it wasn't a shooting range. Your  
accuracy shouldn't drop more that 50% in combat. And! When you started shooting  
at them, you led them into a place where they could take cover."  
"Oh!" Clark slapped his forehead.  
"Yeah! Killing the enemy also entails preventing them from defending  
themselves. Not just shooting 'em." Demona looked at them, and wondered if Clark  
actually did those things on purpose. Wouldn't have surprise her. And she also  
noticed that Myria became that other gargoyle for a moment there. Myria patted  
Clark on the back again, more heartily, and said:  
"Don't worry! I'll make a warrior out of you yet."  
"Thanks. Damn near wet my pants, though." He sighed.  
"Don't worry," Myria told Demona and Angela with a wink, "my human's not  
housebroken yet. OW!" Clark punched her in the arm, and she glared at him. Then  
she smiled and gave a quick brush of her knuckles over his forehead. In the  
distance, the sound of sirens caught their attention.  
"Demona," Clark said, "will you be alright?"  
"Uh . . . yes. My home is not far from here. My wings should heal by  
tomorrow." Why was she telling him that?  
"Then let's go back to the castle." Myria picked up Clark and flew off.  
"Take care, mother."  
"I will, child." They hugged one last time and Angela glided off. Demona  
climbed down the side of the building and looked around. She pushed in a brick  
on the building and a door opened up in the wall. She walked in and made her way  
through one of the many entrances into her mansion. Now home, her legs buckled  
under her and she began to sob. She clutched her neck, bent over and began to  
cry.  
  
* * *  
  
"Mr. Xanatos," Owen said, "the clan will be landing here shortly."  
"Thank you, Owen. Let's go up, I want to know what happened."  
"Of course. Will your wife be joining us?"  
"No, she wanted to go to bed."  
"Very well." Then began walking in the corridors to the clan's usual  
landing spot.  
"I hope Clark and his friend didn't lead them to any trouble," David  
said.  
"Friend, sir?"  
"Yeah, the gargoyle that-" a thought suddenly occurred to him, "that got  
past our defenses somehow. Owen, did you allow anyone to glide in tonight?"  
"No, sir, I have not even detected any birds tonight."  
"A female gargoyle glided in tonight after I introduced Clark to the  
clan."  
"Impossible. We have the most advanced radar money can buy, enhanced by  
Puck's magic."  
"Hmmm. Curiouser and curiouser." He scratched his beard.  
  
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
E-mails are more than welcome...they're BEGGED for! Jeez, am I 14m3 or what? 


	7. Detections

The Nameless  
Ch. 7 "Detections"  
EfrainMan  
EfrainMan9@yahoo.com  
  
I dinnae own Gargoyles. . . but if any of you Disney guys wanna give it to me,  
that's cool. Any original characters belong to my dark, twisted imagination, so  
if you wanna use 'em, you gotta ask the voice in my head that tells me to kill.  
  
* * *  
  
Out of the corner of her eye, Elisa saw the gargoyle she had fallen in  
love with. In his arms, she pushed other thoughts away. Thoughts that only took  
form when she was alone. In his arms, she relished in the feel of his body. But-  
no! No buts! She loved him. The sound of his voice, the taste of his kisses, she  
loved everything about him (really?) and he felt the same. Didn't he? Yes, of  
course! She has seen it in his eyes (and what else?). Why am I-  
"Elisa?" Goliath asked.  
"Hmm?" was all she could manage out of her reverie.  
"Do you think we should . . . interrogate Myria and Clark tomorrow? Just  
so we could spend tonight together?"  
'Yes!'  
"No, we should bring it up right away."  
'We need to talk. About us. Now!'  
"Very well, Elisa." They glided back to the castle in silence.  
  
* * *  
  
"Angela?" Myria asked.  
"Yes?"  
"You look tired. You wanna ride on my back with Clark? Plenty of room."  
Angela had to admit, she was tired.  
"That's alright, I-"  
"We'll get home quicker, too. I can fly up higher and find some really  
fast currents. Your daddy's probably worried."  
"Well, you're already carrying someone. I bet you'd get really tired."  
"Bah, it's nothing. I got lots of energy and my wings are really strong.  
I lift weights with them every day; they're almost as strong as my arms."  
"Wow."  
"Yeah, now get on, you need to rest a bit." Angela nodded and Myria  
glided under her. As Myria climbed up, Angela tucked in her wings and brought  
her legs down. She landed squarely in front of Clark, Myria oomphed and Angela  
caped her wings as she sat upright. Like Clark, her legs were hanging over the  
side.  
"Everyone secure?"  
"Yeah."  
"Yup."  
"Hold on to your butts, then." Myria flapped her wings and began to  
ascend. Angela felt herself sliding back. She looked down and was amazed. She  
had never been this high. They were up higher than the castle. Much higher. She  
could see the ocean clearly from here. Within moments, Myria found a current  
going their way, and entered it. Angela was jostled backwards and suddenly found  
herself pressed tightly against Clark, his arms around her waist. She blushed  
somewhat.  
"Hi," he said.  
"Hi," she replied weakly. She could feel the base of her tail pressing  
against his lower abdomen. And between his legs. Her flush intensified.  
"You have a mate, right?" he asked. Angela felt her entire face redden.  
"No. I mean, yeah. I mean . . . Broadway! He and I. We're. Um. Courting!  
Yeah, that's it!" Angela heard a thump behind her, Clark let go of her and said:  
"Ow! Myria!"  
"Ignore him, Angela. He's got some kinda gargoyle fetish."  
"I most certainly do not!"  
"Uh, huh. I hear sheep and horses are popular among you humans who like  
to date outside their species." Angela heard a loud smack behind her now and  
this time Myria yelped in pain.  
"Shit, man! Haven't I told you how much that fucking hurts, you shit-  
faced ass-muncher!"  
"You hit me with your tail, I hit it back."  
"Grr. I'm gonna get you for this, dipshit." Angela felt more comfortable  
now and smiled.  
  
* * *  
  
"Finally, home!" Broadway said, "I'm so hungry."  
"You and me both," Lexington said, "I might even out-eat you today."  
"That's not possible," Brooklyn said, "our stomachs actually have a  
bottom."  
"Hey!" Broadway protested. The trio glided ahead of Goliath in the  
general direction of the kitchen. Goliath smiled at their antics, but stayed his  
course to where David and Hudson were waiting. He landed in front of them and  
set Elisa down.  
"Well," David asked, "what happened?"  
"Angela found Demona. She was killed by something. Brutally. This does  
not bode well. There is something in this city strong enough to make nothing of  
Demona."  
"So, what did ye do with her?" Hudson asked.  
"Angela and our guests escorted her home. Despite Brooklyn's accusations  
she had done nothing wrong."  
"Alright, lad." David stepped up:  
"Goliath, Owen has informed me that Clark's friend managed to slip by  
our security. She was never detected by radar that puts anything the government  
has to shame, AND enhanced by Puck's magic."  
"Seriously?" Elisa asked, "nothing at all?"  
"Not a blip." Goliath and Elisa looked at each other. Goliath sighed.  
"This wouldn't be the first oddity," he said, "about those two we've  
noticed tonight.  
  
* * *  
  
"So, Angela," Clark asked, "what's going on with your mom? Why doesn't  
she live with the clan?"  
"It's a long story," Angela sighed, "but basically she is considered an  
enemy of the clan. She has attacked us on several occasions, the most before I  
came here and once she . . ." Angela took a deep breath, "she tried to destroy  
all of humanity."  
"What?"  
"The fuck?!"  
"Yes. She feels humanity should be eradicated for the good of our kind."  
'What a moron,' Myria thought.  
"My parents," Angela continued, "also blame each other for the deaths of  
our former clanmates."  
"Yeah, I read about that in the Grimorum," Clark said.  
"I don't know what to do about her anymore. I want to help her, but she  
has already deceived me twice. And tonight, she seemed as hard as ever, but I  
could tell she was frightened. I just don't know."  
"She has to want help first," Clark said. Angela looked at him. From  
just hearing that she thought he meant it was hopeless, but when she saw the  
concern in his expression, she knew he meant that she was the one that needed to  
instill that desire into Demona. She nodded. There was silence for a few moments  
until Clark began to sing. Myria joined him quickly:  
  
"Midnight, our sons and daughters,  
Were cut down and taken from us,  
Hear their heartbeat,  
We hear their heartbeat.  
  
In the wind we hear their laughter,  
In the rain we see their tears,  
Hear their heartbeat,  
We hear their heartbeat.  
  
Night hangs like a prisoner,  
Stretched over black an blue,  
Hear their heartbeat,  
We hear their heartbeat.  
  
In the trees our sons stand naked,  
Through the walls our daughters cry,  
See their tears in the rainfall."  
  
They stayed silent for a bit afterwards.  
"That was beautiful," Angela finally said, "what was it?"  
"'Mothers of the Disappeared'. U2." Clark answered. Angela smiled.  
"Hang on," Myria announced, "I'm going down to the castle."  
"DOWN to the castle?!"  
  
* * *  
  
"Yes, Owen," David said, "I see them. Thank you." He put away his cell  
phone and looked up. Sure enough, there was Clark, Angela and Myria. Owen was  
mostly right. They landed near him. Myria stretched.  
"Hello, Mr. Xanatos," Angela said, "where is everyone?"  
"Welcome back, guys. They're in the main room. I'm sure you want to tell  
them what happened with Demona. And get a good meal."  
"Oh, I haven't had breakfast yet! Thanks for the advice, I'll see you  
there!" Angela waved back at them cheerily and ran off.  
"Huh," Myria said, "she became awfully peppy real quick."  
"No kidding. Hey, David, what do you think of this?" Clark reached over  
and grabbed the pistol Myria took from the Quarryman earlier and showed it to  
him. They began to walk to the main room.  
"Hmm. Resembles the guns we make. But noticeably different. Copycat.  
Where did you get this?" He handed it back.  
"I'll tell you later. We need to get some food into my striped green  
monster or she might eat someone." Myria grinned.  
  
* * *  
  
"Okay. Thanks. Yeah, that's very interesting." Elisa hung up the phone  
and looked at the clan.  
"What did Matt say?" Goliath asked.  
"Well-" she was interrupted by Myria and Clark's entrance. David closed  
the door behind them.  
"Hey."  
"Yo." Myria set her gun and sword down.  
"Hey, Myria you want some food?" Brooklyn asked. He pointed to the table  
which had various sandwiches in a platter.  
"Yummers! Breakfast." She went over and grabbed four sandwiches. "Thanks  
handsome." She immediately began to wolf them down as she walked back to Clark.  
He had sat down on the sofa. Brooklyn looked at her with a slight grin, and  
Lexington poked him in the side.  
"What?"  
"You're staring," he whispered. Brooklyn gave him a look.  
"So, Myria," Goliath asked, "no problems taking Demona home?"  
"Didn't Angela tell you?"  
"She is using the restroom."  
"Oh! Well, um . . . we ran into some Quarrymen on the way there and I  
dispatched them. Assholes like that ain't got nothin' on me."  
"How?" Elisa asked.  
"Well, they shot me, I shot them back."  
"Is that all?"  
"Um, yeah." Angela entered the room at this point.  
"'Cause I just got a call from my partner telling me that a helicopter  
crashed in the 19th's jurisdiction. They also found several dead Quarrymen on a  
nearby rooftop. He says they looked like they were hit with flak shells. The  
bursting, armor-piercing kind."  
"Heh, that sounds like my gun."  
"What were you thinking?"  
"We were under attack! We had to defend ourselves!"  
"Was the helicopter attacking you?"  
"Ah . . . well, no."  
"But you still shot it down."  
"You wouldn't understand. You had to be there."  
"Innocent people could've been hurt!"  
"There was no one on the ground!"  
"That's not the point! There could have been!"  
"Jeez! What bullshit." Myria walked over to her gun and picked it up.  
"Where are you going?" Goliath asked. "We are not finished."  
"Myria, stay," Clark said. She sighed gruffly and looked back at them.  
"Fine," she said disdainfully, her body language clearly showing anger.  
"You shouldn't be using a gun like that. Seriously," Elisa said, "that  
thing is really powerful. What does it fire?"  
"I already told you."  
"Maybe I wasn't paying attention." Elisa was quite irate now. Myria  
growled softly.  
"25mm bursting shells at one thousand RPM. It also has an RPG launcher."  
"My God," a shocked Elisa said, "that thing's a monstrosity. Shells that  
powerful that fast . . . I can't imagine how many laws that violates. I can't  
let you keep that thing." Myria's face grew cold and hard.  
"Cold, dead fingers, detective," she stated. Goliath growled, and the  
rest of the clan stood from the table. Elisa and Myria glared at each other.  
"Who are you?" Goliath asked, "Really?" Myria looked at him dumbfounded.  
"Whaddya mean?"  
"You said your name was Myria Leerka Clan-Brirra. That's a lot of name.  
Especially for someone who doesn't have a clan."  
"Ah . . ."  
"And," Goliath continued, "you seem to be quite knowledgeable about a  
civilization whose only record are some books written in a language that is no  
longer in anyone's ken."  
"Well . . ."  
"And you, Clark," Elisa said as she turned around, "why did you decide  
to follow the Grimorum? Why did you think the story had any validity." He  
shrugged nonchalantly. The rest of the clan had their curiosity piqued and came  
closer.  
"Myria," Angela said, "while we were fighting you mumbled something  
about surviving a battle of 'Gerood' or something like that." Myria slapped her  
forehead.  
"I think we are owed an explanation," Goliath ominously said. Myria  
sighed and moved to Clark, who remained nonplussed.  
"Dude, they're smart," she told him.  
"Well, they do have a detective," he replied. Myria sighed again. When  
she turned back to the clan, Elisa felt the person in front of her had changed  
completely. Her expression was rugged, her eyes holding something she could not  
grasp. When she spoke, her voice became harder, somewhat deeper.  
"Detective, I am Leerka Clan-Brirra, Captain, 18th Air Cavalry, Royal  
Guard. I am originally from our ancestral home in the Pacific, but I have spent  
the last ten years occupying the body of a young gargess by the name of Myria.  
Of her own free will, of course. I have known Clark for much longer than that.  
But before I came to inhabit Myria, I resided in that sword. I slumbered in it  
for ten thousand years, somehow awakening when it was handled by Clark when he  
was only a boy. I've been to him since, asking him to find a gargoyle who would  
be kind enough to share their body with me. That is why he became interested in  
the magic book. As I said before, I was originally from the land of our people.  
Before it was destroyed. I'm a soldier with many years of battle experience. As  
such, I was chosen for a special project that would be implemented in the case  
of a major catastrophe. Myself, my squad of five other soldiers, and a dozen of  
our best and brightest civilians were to be placed in hypothermic stasis in a  
protective bunker until such time that it would be safe for us to come out. Heh.  
Actually, only the civilians were to be "frozen", as that method was the most  
sure, but it required tremendous amounts of energy for long-term hibernation. So  
the rest of us had our souls and life-forces ceded into artifacts. That method  
required a new body later on, and if anything happened to the artifact, the  
person was lost. We were there in case they needed protection from any hostile  
forces. But the plan was not yet complete before the Un-Named attacked. In the  
panic, I was ceded to the sword, and that is all I remember. I do not know what  
happened to my team or the prodigies. As far as I know, I am the last alive of  
our people. More or less."  
"What was their, um, your peoples' name?" Elisa asked. Myria scoffed.  
"We were ourselves, we didn't need a name. Humans." Goliath chuckled at  
that, and Elisa rolled her eyes.  
"What about what Angela said? That Gerood thing?" Lexington asked. Myria  
paled somewhat. She lowered her head.  
"The battle of Gerhoud. A rouge human faction tried to take control of  
one of our colonies in the Americas. We were sent in to remove them. That fight  
made your American D-Day look like a skirmish. I lost a lot of friends in that  
battle. A lot. I still get nightmares." As she was saying that, Myria started to  
wring her arm and Clark came over. When she finished, he playfully bumped into  
her. She gave him a sad smile.  
"What happened to Myria's clan?" Goliath asked.  
"I don't know," Myria said, back to the way she was before, "I have no  
memory of my former clan. I think I'm lucky to remember my name. As far as I  
know, they may still be somewhere in Northern California."  
"I see," Goliath said. It was definitely something that needed further  
investigation. There was a short silence.  
"This person is not to be trusted." The clan turned to see Owen suddenly  
standing in the doorway, his face as angry as it got. Myria's eyes widened, then  
began to glow as she growled.  
"A Fay!" she shouted and grabbed her sword, bolts of electricity jumping  
from it, her body and eyes.  
  
* * *  
  
"Chief?."  
"Yes, Helios."  
Helios fidgeted. "I'm sorry to inform you, sir, that . . . Metheia has  
escaped."  
"What!? How!?" Taurus stood up angrily from his desk.  
"Someone broke in last night and extracted her." Taurus' scowl was a  
sight that struck fear and awe among friends and enemies alike. The last time it  
was this bad, Helios recalled, was when Proteus escaped.  
"We are scouring the city for her, but all indications point to her  
leaving the island. Her tracking device was five hundred kilometers away when it  
stopped transmitting. " Taurus pounded his fist against his table.  
"Dammit! Find some way to track her down. Top priority. Get everyone in  
the science ministry to devise something. We cannot have her loose outside New  
Olympus. That . . . monster makes Proteus look like a schoolyard bully."  
  
* * *  
  
THEY were there. Up there. High. Too high. Have to wait. As high as it  
could. It was CLEAN. REST now. STONE? Yes. Tomorrow night. It would KILL again.  
  
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
E-mails are more than welcome...they're BEGGED for! Jeez, am I 14m3 or what? 


	8. Fathomable

The Nameless  
  
Ch. 8 "Fathomable"  
  
EfrainMan  
  
EfrainMan9@yahoo.com  
  
I dinnae own Gargoyles. . . but if any of you Disney guys wanna give it to me,  
  
that's cool. Any original characters belong to my dark, twisted imagination, so  
  
if you wanna use 'em, you gotta ask the voice in my head that tells me to kill.  
  
* * *  
  
"Only one more . . ."  
  
"I hope you appreciate what we did for you, pet."  
  
"Oh, I do. Especially now that you've shown me my destiny."  
  
"Our destiny."  
  
"Of course. But will the three of us have any fun whilst we search for  
  
the fourth?"  
  
"Oh, believe me, pet. We will."  
  
* * *  
  
"David!" Myria said, "You've got a piece of shit Fay in your castle!"  
  
Myria took a fighting position.  
  
"Whatever this female has told you," Owen said, "is a lie."  
  
"It's you and your kind who are the deceitful ones."  
  
"HER kind is not to be trusted."  
  
"Her kind!?" Goliath asked.  
  
"She is not a gargoyle."  
  
"I'm more like them than you are you fucker. You're not welcome here!"  
  
"That's enough!" Goliath roared. "Both of you!"  
  
"Myria, calm down!" Clark finally said. She relaxed somewhat.  
  
"Owen," Goliath asked, "you said she was not a gargoyle. What do you  
  
mean by that."  
  
"I mean simply that she is not a gargoyle. She is not of your kind."  
  
"Then what is she?"  
  
"She is a waste of life-energy."  
  
"WHAT?!" Myria started to walk to him when Clark stopped her. "Say that  
  
to my face you piece of shit!"  
  
"Stop!" Goliath shouted. "Owen, leave your opinions out of this. Just  
  
the facts."  
  
"They are the Puck's opinions, but I will comply. I know not the name of  
  
her kind, but my Lord Oberon and my Lady Titania have told the Puck on several  
  
occasions that her kind are liars, thieves and degenerates, unworthy of walking  
  
this world. Though, they did not put it as kindly as me."  
  
"And what did they base this on?"  
  
"I do not know. But my Lord and Lady would not speak so contemptibly  
  
without just cause." Myria harrumphed.  
  
"What do you say to that?" Elisa asked. Myria did not take her eyes away  
  
from Owen.  
  
"No, I'm not a gargoyle, but I never said I was," she sighed, "My kind  
  
are called the Lilim, and we are very much like gargoyles. It's like. . . we are  
  
to gargoyles as the Fay are to humans. We are the fourth race. The lies spread  
  
about us by the Fay are for one reason only. Their magic does not work on us.  
  
Pure and simple. We cannot be hurt, affected or tricked by Fay magic. How do you  
  
think I saw through that disguise. And they hate us for it. Because of your Lord  
  
my kind is extinct. I am the last. AND, the Fay are the ones who ingrained into  
  
humans the idea that gargoyles and Lilim are demons so they could help them get  
  
rid of us."  
  
"Outrageous!" Owen said.  
  
"It's because of your kind that ours is nearly extinct!" Myria shouted.  
  
"She can get past the castle's defenses! Her kind is a liability!"  
  
"Owen!" Goliath shouted, "We know better than anyone else not to judge  
  
people by their kind. You must do the same."  
  
"She has already lied to you."  
  
"I did not! I simply didn't tell them everything." She turned to Goliath  
  
and said, "would you have spoken to me if Clark had said that I only look like a  
  
gargoyle, but I'm really not?" Goliath looked at her pensively.  
  
"Father, Owen," Angela said, "Myria doesn't seem as bad as Owen says she  
  
is. She saved my life and did some real damage to the Quarrymen. She blew up one  
  
of their helicopters!"  
  
"I bet those don't come cheap," Clark said, turning to David. He laughed  
  
and said:  
  
"No, they don't."  
  
"She was very brave," Angela continued, "and so was Clark. They are good  
  
warriors. They should be given the benefit of the doubt."  
  
Goliath sighed. "I will give you a chance to explain everything. Only  
  
because you did save my daughter."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"Hmph," Owen said and walked out.  
  
"Good riddance," Myria said.  
  
"Hey, that is my most trusted friend you're talking about," David said.  
  
"Control it, Myria," Clark said.  
  
"Whatever . . . Anyways, I've practically told you everything already.  
  
Oh, one more thing: I have an ability to electrocute anything that touches me,  
  
if I fell like it. An advantage of being a Lilim. And our civilization had no  
  
name, either. Something I wouldn't have 'known' had I been of this time. Naming  
  
is a human thing."  
  
Hudson chuckled and Elisa gave him a look.  
  
"That's about it. . ."  
  
"Are you sure?" Elisa asked.  
  
"Yeh."  
  
"How about, why you're here?" Lexington asked.  
  
"The reasons we came here are unchanged. Maybe we weren't clear about it  
  
earlier, but we want one of you to come to a ruin in the Pacific Islands and try  
  
to help us open it."  
  
Goliath growled. Everyone else became uncomfortable.  
  
"We don't need an answer right away," Clark said, "There's absolutely no  
  
rush whatsoever."  
  
Goliath sighed. "We will think about it. But, do not deceive us again.  
  
We do not want friends with secrets. However, I think I can speak for the whole  
  
clan when I say we would like to know more about our people." The rest of the  
  
clan gave affirmations.  
  
"I'm keeping an eye on both of you," Elisa said.  
  
"That's cool." Myria yawned. "Hey you mind if I stick around here for  
  
the day?"  
  
"Not at all." Goliath and Brooklyn said together. Goliath looked at him  
  
and Brooklyn gave an embarrassed laugh.  
  
"The sun'll be up in half an hour." Lexington said.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"I still want," Elisa said, "for you to stop using that gun." Myria  
  
sighed.  
  
"Detective, I'm a trained soldier, and I've logged hundreds of accident-  
  
free hours with this weapon. I can be trusted with it. And I WAS under attack  
  
tonight. Angela would be dead if I was unarmed."  
  
"Elisa," Angela said, "I would really feel better if she kept it."  
  
"Angela. . ." Broadway said.  
  
"I'm sorry, Broadway, but . . . I think she should keep it."  
  
"She brought down a helicopter in the middle of a city!"  
  
"Um, yeah," Myria said, "I'm sorry about that. I got carried away. It's  
  
been a while since I've been in combat. I can and will show restrain."  
  
This time Elisa gave a low growl.  
  
"I'll make sure of it," Clark said, "I may be two feet shorter than her,  
  
but I got her wrapped around my little finger." Which he wiggled. Myria stormed  
  
over to him, unfurled her wings completely and stood right over him.  
  
"What didya say, punk!?" Myria seemed to be seething, but they noticed  
  
her eyes weren't glowing. Clark just looked at her. He then reached up and  
  
brushed his knuckles against her brow. Her wings drooped and she bopped his head  
  
with hers. They chuckled.  
  
"It's nice," Goliath said, "to see that human and gargoyle couples are  
  
not totally unheard of."  
  
"Ewww," Myria said, "I'm not with him! Humans got cooties!"  
  
"What!?" Elisa said. Clark sighed.  
  
"Yeah! Stone sleep prevents Gargoyles from getting head lice."  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
Shortly before the sun came up, Broadway found Angela leaning back on a  
  
wall near to where they slept. Her face was emotionless.  
  
"Angela, are you okay? You went through a lot tonight." She seemed to  
  
brighten up and hugged him.  
  
"I'm just fine. Let's go to sleep." The clan assembled at their usual  
  
places. Myria took a spot between Brooklyn and Hudson. Their human friends were  
  
just behind them. They posed ferociously and were frozen for the day. The humans  
  
were frozen for a few moments too. Except Clark. Owen came up to them.  
  
"What happened to Myria?" Elisa asked. David went up to her.  
  
"She turned to..." he rapped on her and the black, frozen form emanated  
  
a metallic bong. Owen hissed.  
  
"Iron."  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
As Elisa went to bed that morning, she vaguely remembered forgetting  
  
something. It slightly nagged her as she tried to go to sleep. Moments before  
  
she went out, she finally remembered to talk to Goliath about the claw marks on  
  
her balcony. And from then on, she did not remember until it was far too late.  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
Later in the afternoon, Dominique Destine stood on a rooftop, dressed in  
  
her usual night fare. A duffle bag next to her contained her day suit. And a  
  
weapon. Just in case. The sun would set in a few minutes, and earlier she had  
  
decided to check on her daughter. For in her hand, she held high-powered binocu-  
  
lars, and in front of her stood the Eyrie building. She was not going to place  
  
any faith in a strange gargoyle and a human.  
  
On a nearby building, a stone form waited for the night, ready to kill.  
  
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
E-mails are more than welcome...they're BEGGED for! Jeez, am I 14m3 or what?  
  
The next chapter's titled "Un-Named". I wonder what'll happen... 


	9. UnNamed

The Nameless  
  
Ch. 9 "Un-Named"  
  
EfrainMan  
  
EfrainMan9@yahoo.com  
  
I dinnae own Gargoyles. . . but if any of you Disney guys wanna give it to me,  
  
that's cool. Any original characters belong to my dark, twisted imagination, so  
  
if you wanna use 'em, you gotta ask the voice in my head that tells me to kill.  
  
BTW, if you like Naruto (and you'd better damn like Naruto, is a kick-ass anime)  
  
I have a fic on FF.net called "Blind" for your reading pleasure. Be warned, it  
  
takes place late in the series, so read the manga or downl-uh, I mean watch the  
  
TV series . . . =3  
  
* * *  
  
Sunset was a time few truly noticed. Drivers on the road turned on their  
  
lights. As did families in their homes. Many businesses did the opposite at this  
  
time. But recently, sunset was a time of an even more heightened awareness for  
  
New Yorkers. More than the dangers of thieves, rapists and lunatics, many fear  
  
the monsters they recently realized lurked in the night. "Monsters" who stopped  
  
the thieves, rapists and lunatics. "Monsters" who protect them soon after they  
  
shed the stone shells they don during the day. And tonight, as they burst awake,  
  
their cracking and crumbling was joined by the creaking and snapping of an iron  
  
skin being shed. And, with one last growling yawn they were awake. On a building  
  
below them, a lone figure also shook off the last shards of its stone skin. And  
  
waited.  
  
On a separate rooftop, Demona watched Castle Wyvern as well, binoculars  
  
in hand. All she had to know was whether her child was safe, and she would be  
  
gone before anyone noticed. The pain of her earlier transformation usually made  
  
her scream, but tonight she had to suppress it. The process took longer than  
  
coming out of stone sleep, and although she was very far away, she did not take  
  
the chance of being heard. But for now, she waited.  
  
Goliath, his clan and Myria glided down from the high parapets onto the  
  
closest walkway that led down to their main room.  
  
"So, Whaddya guys do on a Friday night?" Myria asked.  
  
"Normally," Goliath answered, "we have breakfast, have some recreational  
  
activity, go on patrol, have lunch, do a second patrol, eat dinner, and relax  
  
until daybreak."  
  
"Oh," Myria said. 'Reminds me of boot camp,' she thought. A few moments  
  
later they were inside. Broadway and Angela walked to the kitchen. The rest  
  
heard their conversation before they slipped away.  
  
"How about steak? We haven't had that in a while."  
  
"Steak. . . and eggs? Y'know, a human style breakfast?"  
  
"Great idea, my love!" The others would wait in anticipation. Before  
  
they went off to do their things (Brooklyn walking towards Myria), Lexington  
  
noticed something.  
  
"Myria, your gun's. . . blinking."  
  
"Huh?" She looked at it, and there indeed was a small flashing light on  
  
its side. "Oh, shit!" She ran over to it and pushed it. "Yo!"  
  
"Evening, Myria," a familiar voice said.  
  
"Evenin' Clark. How's it hangin'"  
  
"Heh, I'm fine. Really sleepy though. I'm just tucking Cynthia in, then  
  
heading off myself. Day and a half of no sleep gets to you after a while."  
  
". . . wouldn't know man."  
  
"Eh, yeah. . . huh? What's that? Oh. . . Myria Cynthia wants to talk to  
  
talk to you."  
  
"'K"  
  
"Myria?" said a small, sleepy voice.  
  
"Hey, kiddo. How ya doin'?"  
  
"I'm cool," she answered, imitating Myria. "Did you find any more  
  
gargoyles?"  
  
"Yeah! I found a whole gaggle of them!"  
  
The girl giggled and said, "Gargoyles don't come in gaggles! They come  
  
in clans, silly!"  
  
"No, I think they come in gaggles. Or maybe a flock? Maybe a herd? Or a  
  
swarm?" The girl was giggling loudly.  
  
"Are they big and strong like you?"  
  
"Psh! They're big and strong, but ain't nuttin' like me, gurl!" There  
  
was a pause and then a yawn on the speaker. "Go to bed, kiddo."  
  
"I will." There was silence for a few seconds.  
  
"Myria, are you coming back tonight?" Clark was speaking again.  
  
"Yeah, I'll be crashin' with you again before daybreak."  
  
"Alright. Good night."  
  
"Night, dawg." She pushed the button again.  
  
"Wow, what else does it do?" Lexington asked.  
  
"Take a look, man. The safety's on," she pointed to a switch on the side  
  
by the trigger, "watch out for it." Lexington began looking the gun over.  
  
"Was that his daughter?" Goliath asked. Brooklyn and Hudson were behind  
  
him.  
  
"The lass sounds like a doll."  
  
"Yeah, she's the cutest. Gonna be gorgeous when she grows up. She'd like  
  
to meet you guys one day. I've known her since she was born, so she can really  
  
keep a secret."  
  
"I see no problem in that. She's already used to you."  
  
"They're yuir clan, aren't they lass?"  
  
"Heh, yeah."  
  
"What about her mother?"  
  
"Ah, they're divorced. I caught her bangin' some other guy, and so we  
  
cooked up a plan to catch her on tape, for his prenup. He didn't show it at  
  
first, but it really broke him up for a while. He's lucky he had his daughter.  
  
I never liked that bitch he married, anyways. Thank God I never showed myself to  
  
her, or we'da been ratted out."  
  
"I see. A shame."  
  
"A real ho, huh?" Brooklyn said.  
  
"Psh! Yeah, man. Shoulda busted a cap in her ass!" The two laughed, and  
  
Goliath rolled his eyes. Brooklyn and Myria traded insults concerning Clark's ex  
  
for a couple of minutes, and the others went off to do other things until break-  
  
fast was ready, happy to ignore them.  
  
"Tonight," Goliath said once they gathered for breakfast, "We will have  
  
double patrols to make up for last night." The clan's reaction was mixed, but no  
  
one seemed happy about it.  
  
"You want me to come, too?" Myria said with her mouth full.  
  
"Feh!" Brooklyn said in a haughty manner, "how uncouth!" Myria only gave  
  
him a look. She would control herself until Goliath said if she could go or not.  
  
She'd smack him later. When she looked over to Goliath, he was walking over to  
  
her gun.  
  
"I would like for you to leave this behind."  
  
"But-"  
  
"We are capturing. . . lightly armed criminals," Goliath said with con-  
  
viction, "not soldiers."  
  
Myria sighed, "Alright man." She dejectedly put more food in her mouth.  
  
In a few minutes they left the castle. Below, Demona was wondering if the three  
  
witches' spell covered dying of boredom. She looked up again and was relieved to  
  
hit jackpot. The tiny shadows high above were soon magnified to crystal clarity.  
  
She felt only somewhat relaxed when Angela's familiar form glided by. Being led  
  
to unknown danger by a blind fool. As she turned to pack up and make her furtive  
  
exit, she noticed one of those dangers.  
  
The Un-Named spotted them, too, and began to follow them.  
  
* * *  
  
Then clan plus one glided over Manhattan, headed to where Elisa had  
  
asked them to patrol for a short time. Besides normal crime in the area, there  
  
were rumors of a group organizing something major in the area.  
  
"I remember my first patrol," Myria said to break the silence, "I was a  
  
'Class 1', the equivalent of a private. The squad I was assigned to was ordered  
  
to infiltrate an enemy camp and patrol inside for recon (it was a suspected  
  
terrorist camp, but we didn't have any evidence). They had already done it a few  
  
times when I joined them. It was my lucky day, 'cause it was the day they disco-  
  
vered where their lieutenants were holed up. The mission quickly switched from  
  
recon to capture and exfil. They weren't too happy with that. Damn, I was so  
  
scared. But my body switched to automatic, running and shooting on its own. All  
  
I could do was watch. We got out with only two wounded and I was numb for hours.  
  
I earned my first medal, too. Later that night, I cried for a really long time.  
  
Not only did I almost die, I killed several people. Which is why I remember my  
  
first patrol. It was the first time I killed someone." There was a pause.  
  
Goliath sighed. "It is. . . not easy." Goliath said.  
  
"No, but. . . I had to get used to it. We assaulted the base the very  
  
next morning." She paused. "I can tell now, y'know, if someone's ever killed  
  
anyone just by talking to them for a bit and looking into their eyes. I can tell  
  
you have, Goliath." He sighed. "None of you four have."  
  
"Yeah," Broadway said softly. The rest were silent.  
  
"Hudson has, too," Myria continued. "So has Elisa." Goliath lost some  
  
color in his face, but said nothing. "Fox, too, but not David."  
  
"Fox?" Lexington and Angela said together.  
  
"Yep."  
  
"But not Xanatos?" Brooklyn asked.  
  
"Nope. . . Clark hadn't either, until last night. He's lucky. I've put  
  
him through so much target practice. . . I had three months to prepare to kill  
  
someone. He's had years. It'll be easier for him. A little."  
  
"Can we talk about something else?" Angela asked.  
  
"Sure," Myria said, "why do you people go around in your underwear?" Any  
  
answer that would have been given was cut off when a flash of white slammed into  
  
Myria. It twirled her and threw her down. The clan got a glimpse of the humanoid  
  
shape before it, too, began to fall. Brooklyn and Goliath dived towards Myria.  
  
They weren't sure if they would catch up, but they tried. They were relieved to  
  
her wings flap and her descent slow. Goliath looked to where the attacker was  
  
about to fall, and was surprised to see it land on a rooftop. Not crash or slam  
  
onto the rooftop, land. From that height it should have died, but it only made a  
  
shallow crater on the building, hunched over as if it only fell a few feet. He  
  
turned back to Myria who had tumbled onto a rooftop and was on her knees,  
  
clutching her stomach.  
  
"Goliath!" Brooklyn shouted as they neared where she fell. He pointed  
  
and Goliath saw the Un-Named running towards Myria, bounding between buildings.  
  
"Get Myria airborne!" he ordered and began a wide loop. Brooklyn finally  
  
landed and ran to Myria.  
  
"Myria!" He shouted as he helped her up.  
  
"The FUCK hit me?!"  
  
"I don't know, but it's coming this way! Can you glide?"  
  
"I'll try. . . shit!" The Un-Named was about to pounce on them when a  
  
lavender blur came out of the sky and slammed onto its side. Goliath pulled up  
  
and the hybrid went flying right into a wall, breaking through it in a cloud of  
  
dust. Brooklyn and Myria were airborne again, and the rest caught up.  
  
"Stay aloft and moving," Goliath said, "it doesn't have wings."  
  
"But it can jump really high!" Lexington said.  
  
"Yes, but that is ineffective without the element of surprise."  
  
"Father, are you alright?" Goliath was rubbing his shoulder.  
  
"That was a hard hit," Myria said.  
  
"It is armored. Feels like slamming into one of Xanatos' robots." He  
  
turned to Myria, "Is that an. . . Un-Named?"  
  
"Yeah. . ." she sighed. "What now?"  
  
"You're the expert on this thing." Brooklyn said.  
  
"I got lucky with the one I fought. But my sword'll cut through it!"  
  
She grasped the hilt. "What's the plan, Goliath?"  
  
Goliath took a deep breath. "From the way you act and your purported  
  
military history, I was afraid you would have tried to take charge."  
  
"Heh, one thing a military officer knows is when and when not to intrude  
  
in another's command. I'll follow your orders." Goliath nodded.  
  
"Stay mobile, wait for an opening. And let's see if we can disable it  
  
without killing it."  
  
"It's getting up." The Un-Named was emerging from its hole in the wall  
  
and saw them hovering in the distance.  
  
"Spread out!" Goliath ordered. It jumped out of the hole, leaving a  
  
shocked woman staring at the hole, the popcorn she was making forgotten. Darting  
  
across the rooftop it landed on, it stopped at the edge and looked at its prey  
  
gliding around. The clan was finally able to get a good look at it, and it was  
  
just as Demona described. Human shaped, but with talons on its hands. Thick,  
  
white, futuristic armor. Helmet covered in runes and a mask. The monster that  
  
treated Demona like a rag doll.  
  
"It looks exactly like the one I fought," Myria said, "definitely an Un-  
  
Named."  
  
"Maybe we should name it?" Angela said.  
  
"You've been hanging around humans too long." she chided. It bounded at  
  
Broadway, but he easily dodged it. It landed on a wall and clung to it. It tried  
  
again but missed again. Goliath realized this enemy was not going to try the  
  
same thing over and over for too long. It would think of something, so he needed  
  
to, as well. Maybe it could be reasoned with? His train of thought was derailed  
  
when it jumped towards Brooklyn as he glided past a tall building. This was a  
  
mistake for as soon as it clung to the wall, it bounded again at an unprepared  
  
Brooklyn. It clamped its arms around him, ready to slam him hard onto a rooftop.  
  
"Brooklyn!"  
  
He struggled to get out but couldn't. In a split second, he, too, got  
  
lucky with the Un-Named and noticed a spot where there was no armor. He brought  
  
his arms together as hard as he could on the sides of its neck. It let go of him  
  
with a growl, but before Brooklyn could turn over to glide, he landed hard on  
  
the rooftop, rolling a bit.  
  
"Go in!" Goliath shouted. The Un-Named was mostly unfazed as it got up,  
  
and saw Brooklyn down. He tried to get up, but saw it running towards him. He  
  
made a strained attempt to get up to avoid his attacker.  
  
A laser shot cut through the air and hit right between Brooklyn and the  
  
Un-Named, the explosion causing them both to be violently thrown back. After he  
  
landed and stopped his head from spinning, Brooklyn looked up at the source of  
  
the attack.  
  
"Shit. Demona."  
  
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E-mails are more than welcome...they're BEGGED for! Jeez, am I 14m3 or what? 


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